Beautiful, Brave, Broken
by IWannaLiveInABigBlueBox
Summary: He looked Kurt directly in the eyes, teeth grinding together in what would be a magnificent display of disrespect and strength were it not for the full body tremor running down his back. He was beautiful, surprisingly, skin lightly browned, jaw well chiseled, and eyes of gold framed by thick lashes. Kurt actually wouldn't mind the loss of his virginity to this boy.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: He looked Kurt directly in the eyes, teeth grinding together in what would be a magnificent display of disrespect and strength were it not for the full body tremor running down his back. He was beautiful, surprisingly, skin lightly browned, jaw well chiseled, and eyes of gold framed by thick lashes. Kurt actually wouldn't mind the loss of his virginity to this boy. "What's your name?" he asked.**

**Warnings: Noncon/dubcon (yes, its with between Klaine but it's sort of dubcon for both of them), slavery (sexual), handjobs, oral, homophobia, and anxiety and panic attacks.**

**A/N: This is the first chapter of the new and improved Unspoken Rule, I hope you like it. **

**Word Count: ~4,000**

His jaw was set, lips drawn in a hard line as he glared at the floor he was kneeling on. The perfect image of barely controlled anger. Almost. Except for the tremor running down his back, the shaking of his breath, and the minute flinch every time he saw Kurt or Carmichael move out of the corner of his eye.

"He just came in today," Carmichael said, patting the boy's head making him tense, hands clenching against his bare thighs, Carmichael hadn't even had the human decency to give him clothes except for a pair of too tight boxer briefs, "so you'll have the pleasure of training him to your liking. I think he's… like you," Carmichael grimaced, "but if he's not, maybe a firm hand can help change that," he glanced at the king sitting beside Kurt for a second before looking back and nudging the boy forward a couple of inches until his forehead was almost pressed to Kurt's knees.

Kurt gave Carmichael a tight smile, "Thank you, he's lovely," he reached down and ran a gentle hand through the boys messy curls. Not missing the near violent flinch it caused at the unfamiliar touch. He just scratched gently and eventually the boy relaxed into the touch. "He's perfect, Carmichael."

Carmichael gave him a nasty grin, "You're welcome, your highness." He turned on his heel and walked away.

"Kurt," his father said gently, "you don't have too acce-"

Kurt cut him off with a wave of his hand, staring resolutely at the boy on the ground. "Look at me?" he requested softly, tugging slightly on the boy's hair to get him to raise his head.

He looked Kurt directly in the eyes, teeth grinding together in what would be a magnificent display of disrespect and strength were it not for the full body tremor running down his back.

He was beautiful, surprisingly, skin lightly browned, jaw well chiseled, and eyes of gold framed by thick lashes. Kurt actually wouldn't mind the loss of his virginity to this boy.

"What's your name?" he asked.

The boy studied him for a minute, confused by the request for an answer rather than an order. He swallowed and wet his dry lips a couple of times, brow furrowing as more time passed and Kurt just waited patiently.

"Blaine," he finally said, eyes flickering to the ground for a second before raising back to Kurt's in determination.

"How old are you, Blaine?"

He didn't hesitate as long this time to give his soft reply, "Sixteen."

Kurt nodded, scratching his head in reward, watching the way Blaine's eyes fluttered shut for a second at the sensation. Kurt glanced around the ballroom at the many guests laughing and dancing in celebration of his eighteenth birthday, many of them watching Kurt and his new slave curiously and Kurt knew that he needed to get Blaine out of there and away from prying eyes as soon as possible. The boy didn't deserve to be gawked at.

"I think I'm going to retire for the evening, Dad," Kurt said, nudging Blaine backwards a bit before standing. He reached down and pulled Blaine to his feet as well and wrapped an arm around his waist, Blaine stiffened but didn't pull away from him for which Kurt was grateful.

"Kurt," Burt said sternly, "you really don't have to rush into this. Take your time, if you're set on… _accepting_ Carmichael's present," Blaine shuddered beside Kurt, and Kurt rubbed circles into his hip with his thumb, "at least make it special. For you and for him."

"I know what I'm doing, Dad," Kurt said stubbornly. _I just want to get it over with_, he thought bitterly, not daring speak those words out loud where someone could overhear. Prince Hummel, the spoiled brat who is disrespectful enough to dislike such an amazing gift as his first slave especially since Lord Carmichael was nice enough to go against his own beliefs and bring him a boy. Tears of anger and frustration stung his eyes as his hand clenched into a fist by Blaine's waist.

Burt nodded once and Kurt turned, leading Blaine away with him. With every step Blaine's trembling increased and his breath quickened until Kurt was almost positive he was going to pass out. By the time they reached Kurt's room Blaine was clutching onto him to keep upright. Kurt paused in front of his door, turning Blaine towards him and cupping his face in his hands stroking the apples of his cheeks gently until Blaine looked him in the eye. All pretense of anger was gone and it left his honey eyes wide with fear as his breath continued to hitch.

"It's okay to be scared, Blaine," Kurt said softly, "We'll go slow, okay? We'll take a bath and relax and then go from there, does that sound alright?"

Blaine nodded slowly, face drawn in confusion. Kurt kissed his forehead softly and took his hand, tugging him into the room. He stopped just inside the door letting Blaine study the room. He expected a bit of shock or awe at the size but Blaine's expression didn't change as he took it all in. From the huge four poster bed to the library that took up half of the room, he seemed too scared to really appreciate it all.

"The bathroom is over there," Kurt pointed to the open door to their right, "you can get it started if you'd like or you can wait for me, it's up to you. I have to make a call really quick call and then I'll be right in, okay?"

Blaine gave a short nod and untangled their fingers, walking shakily to the bathroom and slipping inside. Kurt waited a few seconds before rushing to his bedside table and picking up the phone, dialing quickly. It was answered on the second ring.

"I need you to bring me condoms and lube," he said before the person on the other end could even speak, knowing if he didn't blurt it out he'd lose his nerve.

They sputtered for a second, "A-and why do you think I have those, Kurt?" he asked incredulously.

"Oh give me a break, Finn, you know exactly where to find them in the slave quarters and I need you to bring me some, now."

Finn groaned, "Why do you even need them? What happened to waiting for Mr. Right?"

Kurt frowned, "Carmichael got me a present," he said softly, "and I need to accept him, but I don't know if he's a virgin or not and I don't want to risk getting anything from him, and that doesn't change the fact that I don't have any lube, which I'm definitely going to need if I don't want to hurt him!" Kurt's voice rose in pitch with each word and he had to take a deep breath at the end to calm himself.

"Kurt," Finn said slowly, "are you sure you-"

"Don't ask me that, Finn," he snapped.

"Okay," he sighed, "condoms and lube, you got it."

"Just leave them by the phone, we'll be in the bath." Kurt hung up the receiver, hands shaking as he pulled them back into his lap and fisted them to try and calm down. He took a breath in through his nose, letting it out slowly as he stood and walked to the bathroom.

Blaine was kneeling on the ground next to the tub when he entered, breath shaking as he rocked slowly back and forth, arms wrapped tightly around his stomach.

Kurt frowned, hands clenching at his side, the words "we don't have to do this" trying to force their way out of his throat but he bit them back, swallowing hard and relaxing his hands and walking forward so he could grip Blaine's chin gently. Blaine fought him, trying to keep his head lowered, but Kurt was persistent until Blaine finally raised his head enough for his eyes to nervously flit to and from Kurt's, they were red rimmed and even as he tried to fight them back a few more tears slipped out and tracked down his face.

"How warm do you like your bath water?" Kurt asked softly, ignoring the urge to wipe the tears from Blaine's face, choosing to not draw attention to them.

"Can't you just get it over with?" he asked voice deceptively steady through his trembling lips and if Kurt couldn't see the tears still pooled in his eyes he might have believed it.

"No," Kurt shook his head, "I can't. Because I want this to be special… for you," _and me_, he added in his head.

"Why?" Blaine asked, brow furrowed in disbelief.

_Because you deserve better, because I deserve better, because I don't want to do this but I have to, and if I have to rape you I can at least make it pleasurable for you and maybe I'll still be able to live with myself._

"What temperature do you like the water?"

* * *

Blaine liked almost scalding water, so Kurt turned the heat up as high as he thought his sensitive skin could stand it. He stripped himself first, slowly, letting Blaine watch as he revealed each new patch of skin. He could tell Blaine was still scared, but he couldn't keep his gaze off of Kurt, eyes wide and darkening. So Carmichael had been right about his sexuality after all, that made this better.

"Stand," Kurt ordered softly, cupping Blaine's cheek. Blaine did as he was told and Kurt slid his hands down the slave's body, caressing and massaging until he reached his hips and slipped his fingers into Blaine's underwear. Blaine swallowed nervously, adam's apple bobbing convulsively as Kurt slowly slipped them down his legs until they pooled at his ankles and Blaine stepped out of them.

Kurt slid his hand back up, taking Blaine's, intertwining their fingers, and tugging him over to the tub. Kurt stepped in first, sitting down slowly to let his body get used to the intense heat before relaxing back and tugging on Blaine's hand to get him to step into the water. He situated himself tensely between Kurt's legs, back ramrod straight as he tried to pull his body tighter together to avoid touching Kurt anywhere.

Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine, pulling him gently backwards until he was resting against Kurt's chest and Kurt could hook his chin over Blaine's shoulder. Kurt started humming softly in his ear whatever random songs popped into his head as he let his hands explore Blaine's chest and stomach, fingers tingling as he caressed smooth skin over mostly hard muscle except for the little bit of pudge on Blaine's stomach.

The slave shuddered in his arms, breath hitching as Kurt explored, dragging his nails lightly over his ribs, cupping and squeezing his pecs and pressing Blaine closer to him. Kurt was patient, not letting his hand drift below Blaine's waist or focusing any of his ministrations on Blaine's nipples. He had to get him calm before he could work him up.

Ever so slowly Blaine started to relax, cautiously melting into Kurt's chest as his head lolled to the side. Kurt smiled when he was almost completely lax and turned his head so he could mouth at Blaine's neck. Blaine let out a surprised but happy sound, his eyes slipping shut as he turned his head farther to allow him more access.

Kurt licked and bit and sucked every bit of skin he could reach, living for the involuntary little moans Blaine was letting out, especially when Kurt put his hands to good use, gently rubbing his thumbs over Blaine's nipples until Blaine was whining desperately, arching his back to push into Kurt's hands and pressing his throat into Kurt's eager mouth. His hips were twitching and thrusting gently in the water, aborted attempts at getting friction for his hardening cock, but all it did was make the water swirl around it, nothing more than a teasing stroke that only made him more desperate.

Blaine started mumbling a frantic litany of 'please, please, please," that Kurt was positive he didn't mean to be saying but Kurt nothing if not generous and finally slid his hand down Blaine's stomach to grasp his aching cock. Blaine's hands gripped Kurt's thighs, nails digging into the sensitive flesh as he thrust his hips up, fucking into the prince's hand and simultaneously dragging his ass across Kurt's own hard cock.

Kurt's head fell back against the wall as he tried to breath and keep himself from thrusting up into the friction Blaine was giving him. He stroked faster, thumbing over the head and continueing to toy with Blaine's nipples with his free hand. With one last sharp twist of his wrist, Blaine came with a hoarse cry, shuddering through his release.

* * *

Kurt gave Blaine a few minutes alone in the bathroom and Blaine wasn't sure whether he was grateful or not. It gave him a minute to collect his thoughts on what had happened in the bath, the sweet and gentle touches as Kurt waited for him to relax before pushing him into anything sexual.

It was confusing, to say the least.

Blaine was his slave to do with as he pleased, he didn't have to wait for him to be comfortable, he didn't have to be nice, he didn't have to make it pleasurable for Blaine. He could have bent him over the arm of his throne right there in the ballroom and no one would have batted an eye, because he was the prince, and Blaine was his slave, and that's just how it was. How it should be.

But it wasn't and the confusion over not knowing what Kurt's angle was was even more terrifying. He'd expected the worst, rough and hard and painful, and him begging for it to stop, and instead it was careful and slow and almost loving. It was like how he had imagined his first time. And he was scared to hope for it to be like that from here on out, because if it wasn't… if Kurt did have a sadistic streak and he was just hiding it for now until Blaine was comfortable, how would Blaine possibly be prepared for when things took a turn for the worse? Rough and hard he could understand, this fucked with his head too much and all he wanted to do was curl up in bed and try and forget his worries.

But he couldn't. Because Kurt was waiting out there for him, and Kurt hadn't come yet, and he knew his job wasn't over until that happened. He wasn't ready for sex, not full on penetrative sex, he couldn't do it, not yet, and he had to try and think of a way to make Kurt want something else from him for tonight. A handjob wouldn't be enough, but maybe a blowjob would suffice if he could just distract Kurt into letting him get away with it.

* * *

Kurt was pacing in front of the bed, a towel slung low on his hips as he tried to get back the confidence he'd found in the bath. But this wasn't just a hand job. This was going to be more and it was going to be intense, and it would likely have to be forced. Blaine's orgasm may have calmed him some, but still probably not enough for this. He'd be tense and scared, and Kurt had to be able to keep going in spite of that. Once it was over they'd never have to do this again. Kurt would _never _touch Blaine again.

Kurt heard the door knob turning and sat quickly on the edge of the bed, leaning back on his hands to try and appear relaxed despite the pounding in his ears.

Blaine exited the bathroom without his towel, likely knowing that he'd be losing it again pretty soon and deciding to take the initiative in his nudity. His eyes found Kurt and he bit his lip shyly, watching the floor as he walked slowly towards him before dropping to his knees directly in front of him.

Kurt was surprised by Blaine continuing to take this submissive position at Kurt's feet without being told to and he wondered if he should tell him he could stop. But then Blaine nuzzled his cheek against Kurt's thigh with a soft smile and Kurt decided he'd tell him later.

"Can I suck you?" Blaine asked, nosing at the towel in the way between him and Kurt's cock, "Master?" he added quietly, looking up at Kurt through those oh so thick eyelashes. A jolt of heat ran down Kurt's spine straight to his cock, but a knot of disgust formed in the pit of his stomach because of it.

"Don't call me that," he said quickly, "I have a name, Blaine, use it."

Blaine was shocked out of his seductive act for a minute, lip pursed. "Isn't that against the law?"

"Not if I give you permission. My name is Kurt call me Kurt, is that understood?" Kurt might have felt a bit harsh, but he really did not like the feeling of Blaine calling him Master and he doubted Sir would be any better. Kurt would be good, if Blaine were his boyfriend that is what he'd call him.

Blaine nodded slowly, taking a deep breath to get himself back into his role of perfectly seductive slave "Okay… Kurt," he annunciated the T as he reached up to the towel around Kurt's waist, he paused for a minute for Kurt to stop him or order him to continue, when Kurt did neither he kept going, tugging it open and moving it out of his way. He scooted closer so Kurt's knees were bracketing his shoulder and pressed his face into Kurt's thigh, his cock nudging his cheek. He breathed deeply, hoping he looked like he was trying to breathe Kurt in but really just trying to keep his nerve. It was either this or let Kurt fuck him.

Kurt rested a hand in Blaine's hair, and Blaine barely managed to not tense as he started scratching his scalp through his wet curls gently. Blaine turned his head to mouth at the side of Kurt's cock, Kurt's fingers tightened in his hair and he let out a soft gasp. Blaine smiled at the reaction and kitten licked his way to the head. It was weird, it tasted a little salty bitter but clean. The skin was soft but hard, and they way it twitched and lengthened as he worked, like it was begging for more, was weirdly enticing. The quiet little moans above him and the way his hand would clench almost painfully tight before he forced it to relax was encouraging as well, and he knew he'd won when he grasped the root of Kurt's cock and pulled the head fully into his mouth, sucking hard, and digging his tongue into the slit at the top, and Kurt promptly collapsed back on the bed, his hands leaving Blaine's hair to fist in his own, his hips twitching as he fought to keep them still.

Blaine took more of him into his mouth, stopping when he felt him nudging the back of his throat and bobbing enthusiastically while pumping his fist over the part he couldn't quite take in. Kurt's breathing was heavy and labored, his thighs twitching and squeezing tight around Blaine's body, pulling him closer, forcing him to take him deeper than he was ready for. Blaine gagged and pulled off, gasping for breath.

Kurt sat up immediately, "Sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't-" Blaine held up a hand to silence him.

"I'm fine," he said, voice rough, "I just… wasn't prepared."

"It's okay," Kurt told him, rubbing his back gently, "I was getting too close there anyway, we should move on, okay."

Blaine's head shot up, eyes wide and a bit wild looking, "N-no, it's okay, I-I can finish. Please, please let me finish, Kurt, I swear it'll be good, it'll be so good."

"I know it would be, Blaine, it was already amazing, but I have better things planned," he winked, and started to slide back on the bed, but Blaine grabbed his legs to keep him from moving.

He was pale and the terrified shaking had returned as he desperately tried to pull Kurt back to him. "Please, please just let me suck you off, please, please, Kurt, I-I want to, please, I'll-I'll swallow, I'll even try to deepthroat, I need to suck you off, Kurt, please please."

Kurt's heart dropped to his stomach when he realized what Blaine was doing. He didn't want to give Kurt a blowjob, he was just choosing it as the lesser of two evils, and he looked so terrified at the idea of Kurt fucking him. He was crying in earnest now, his pleas barely understandable. And Kurt couldn't do it. He couldn't force this boy to have sex with him. Not now, not ever. He was sweet and brave, but so, so terrified, and Kurt had hurt him enough. He would use him for his intended purpose, use him to get off, that was a good enough acceptance of Carmichael's present.

"Okay," he said, scooting back to the edge of the bed.

Blaine gasped out a thank you, wrapping his arms around Kurt's thighs to hold him close and taking him back in his mouth. He sucked fervently, even as tears continued to fall down his face, forcing him to pull off every once in a while to breathe, but he continued to lap at the head until he was read to go again. True to his word, he took Kurt into his throat, gagging, and nails digging into Kurt's thighs, but he forced himself to stay there, and relax, calming enough to breath through his nose.

Kurt kept his hands to himself, letting Blaine work at his own pace as he watched him desperately fucking his throat with Kurt's cock. He felt sick that he was still turned on, he shouldn't be turned on with Blaine so terrified and tear tracks running down his face, but the heat and suction of Blaine's mouth brought him back to the edge quickly and he was fighting to keep still.

"Close, Blaine, close," he gasped and Blaine double his efforts. "Y-you don't have to-" he moaned, as Blaine ignored him and pressed his tongue flat against the vein on the underside of his cock, and he jolted, hips thrusting deep into Blaine's throat as he came, mouth open in a silent cry of pleasure.

He fell back on the bed, gasping and patting the spot beside him. "Blaine, Blaine," he mumbled, and Blaine climbed on the bed kneeling beside him. Kurt reached, up, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him into a kiss. Blaine froze for a second, hands falling on Kurt's chest to catch himself, before kissing him back. It was sweet and tender and gentle, as Kurt kissed him, sucking and nipping at his bottom lip.

When he finally pulled back he kept Blaine close, pressing their foreheads together and just breathing, relaxing. After tonight he wouldn't touch him again, he'd accepted him and that was all he needed to do. He couldn't release him, but he never had to force Blaine into anything like that ever again. But for tonight, he was just going to hold this beautiful boy and pretend this was what they'd wanted.


	2. Chapter 2

**Warnings: Noncon (spanking, not Klaine this time, and it's like a sentence or two), starvation, anxiety, noncommunication. Also, Finn is going to be in this story, I'm not sure exactly how big of a part he'll play just yet, but he's going to be in it a fair amount, just so everyone is warned.**

**A/N: I DID IT! I managed to update when I said I would, yay me! So, for those of you who aren't reading La Pute and didn't seen the note on that one, I'm going to try and update this fic every Saturday, so far so good.**

**Word Count: ~ 4,500**

Blaine wasn't sure how he managed to fall asleep in Kurt's arms, but he did. All the crying and fighting and shaking had left him exhausted, so when Kurt had wrapped him up in a firm and deceptively safe embrace he was out like a light with his face pressed into Kurt's neck, his hands spread out on his chest, and their ankles hooked around each other.

He awoke to cold. It was cold in the bed and it took him a minute to figure out why until he realized that he was no longer tightly intertwined with another body. In fact, there wasn't another body under the blankets or on the bed at all.

He sat up, blinking sleep from his eyes, scanning the room for Kurt who was nowhere to be found, and finally took in Kurt's bedroom. It was quite massive, bigger even than his room at home, which would have been surprising if Kurt were anyone but the prince. The majority of the room was made up of a library, bookshelves stretching floor to ceiling on more than half of two walls, the third opposite the door was made up entirely of windows with a long padded seat stretching along it. There was a grand piano in the middle of the library, with lounge chairs, small tables, and a couch sitting around it, all facing towards it.

More shelves lined the walls, shorter this time, and filled with small trinkets and picture frames. The bed was halfway between the library and the door, and a desk sat in the corner near it. On the wall across from the bed were two doors, one he knew was to the bathroom, and the other he assumed was a closet. A vanity sat to the right of the closet, between it and the bathroom. Large paintings hung around the room, mostly of beautiful landscapes and cities, but there was one directly above Kurt's desk, of a woman with long chestnut hair and eyes of swirling blues and greens, it was smaller than any of the other paintings, small enough to be easily retrieved from the wall and held close, it seemed. Blaine knew, like everyone else in the kingdom, that the queen had died a long time ago, and could only imagine the pain Kurt felt at losing his mother so young.

Blaine climbed out of bed when he saw no sign of Kurt in the main room. He knocked on the bathroom door before cracking it open and peaking in, then did the same on the closet door. Kurt wasn't around. There was, however, a few different sets of clothes, lying on Kurt's side of the bed; a pair of black sweats and a baggy white T-shirt, yoga pants and a more form-fitting t-shirt, and a simple pair of straight leg jeans and a navy blue polo shirt. Assuming Kurt had left them out for him to pick his preference, Blaine tugged on the sweats and T-shirt, hoping baggy clothes would make him less appealing to Kurt.

Blaine explored the room for a bit, looking for a note or something from Kurt but there was nothing to let him know whether he could leave the room or not, or when Kurt would be back, or really just anything to hint at what he should do all day, but there was nothing. He browsed the library for a while, pulling books from the shelf and attempting to read, but nothing was interesting enough to stop his mind from wandering.

He should have seen it coming, hell, he _had _expected it when he first came out and his parents stopped looking at him. He was living on borrowed time as a free man, because eventually his parents would sell him. That's just what you did with undesirable children in his neighbourhood, he'd seen it happen before.

Quinn had gotten pregnant, by a lower class boy even, to make her situation worse. Her parents kept the baby, and sold her. Blaine wasn't even sure if the father ever knew what happened.

Mike refused to go to medical school because he wanted to be a dancer. Tina spent every night at Blaine's house for almost two months afterward, sobbing into his arms.

The worst were Jeff and Nick who were caught in bed together and promptly sold the next day. Blaine's own parents had applauded the Duvalls and Sterlings on making the right choice, despite them being Blaine's best friends since childhood.

He'd hoped and prayed that his parents wouldn't care about his sexuality and he'd been wrong about that, but after almost two years he thought he was safe, that even if his parents pretended he didn't exist, they wouldn't stoop to selling him.

Neither of his parents even left their room when the collectors had come to get him.

* * *

Blaine was dozing on the couch when his stomach grumbled loudly. He groaned and rolled over, trying to ignore it, but his stomach was persistent, continuing to gurgle until he was forced to deal with it.

He rolled off the couch, going into the bathroom to check the state of his hair and immediately regretting falling asleep with it wet. The curls on the side he'd slept on were smashed flat against his head while the other side was a tangled mess of frizz. He knew the only way to make it look _good _would be to take a shower, but he was sure which, if any, of the products Kurt would be okay with him using. So he would have to settle for attempting to make it less terrible.

After twenty minutes of running a wet comb through it, his hair looked relatively not lopsided and his curls were becoming more springy and left frizzy and with another painful clench of his stomach he decided it was as good as he was going to get and it was time for him to brave the rest of the castle in search of food.

He walked aimlessly through the halls, tensing every time another person passed him even though the majority of them seemed to be other slaves or servants going about their duties. No one paid him any mind.

He'd been meandering for about an hour, finding nothing that looked relatively like a kitchen or a dining room when he ran into the last person he wanted to see. The man who had bought him, the man who had violated him with rough and humiliating touches as he 'examined' Blaine, all while calling both him and Kurt horrible things, before giving him away to him like some pet.

He froze in the middle of the hallway, heart stuttering in the chest at the sight of Carmichael. Blaine turned on his heel, quickly trying to walk away from him but he was too late.

"Hey, boy!" Carmichael shouted and like an idiot he paused in his steps, coming to an abrupt standstill as Carmichael quickly caught up to him. "Where's your master, boy?" he asked and Blaine shuddered, staring intently at the floor.

"I don't know," he said quietly.

"You don't know? So you're wandering about the castle by yourself? Are you trying to escape?"

"N-no," Blaine shook his head quickly, "I'm just looking for something to eat. I-I don't know when Kurt will be-" the slap was sudden and Blaine's head jerked to the side.

"Let's get a few things straight, boy, because I don't think you understand what your life as the prince's personal fuck toy is going to entail. You don't call him by his name, you call him Master, Sir, My Lord, or Your Royal Highness-"

"B-but he-he told me-"

Another slap sent Blaine stumbling backward, losing his balance at hitting his knees as he clutched at his cheek. Carmichael's fingers sunk into his hair, wrenching his head back.

"You will not speak unless given express permission or asked a direct question," he continued, "You will not leave his room unless accompanied by the prince or a guard he charges with your watch. And you will eat what he provides, if he hasn't sent food to the room for you, it's because you don't deserve it, do you understand?"

Blaine nodded weakly, blinking to keep the tears at bay.

Carmichael turned and started walking swiftly back towards Kurt's room, dragging Blaine behind him by his hair, not giving him a chance to get to his feet and forced to awkwardly crawl after him.

When they reached the room, Carmichael pulled him to his feet, pushing his head into the door, landing three swift smacks on his backside. Blaine cried out in pain and humiliation at being punished like a child in the middle of the hallway.

"That's only a taste of what the prince will have in store for you when he finds out you left the room without permission," he growled in his ear before opening the door and shoving him through.

Blaine hit the ground and curled into a ball, he stayed that way even after he heard Carmichael close the door and leave again, but then he let himself cry, great gasping sobs that only intensified as his stomach continued to growl in frustration. He'd done something wrong and he didn't know what it was, and Kurt was starving him because of it. He tried to draw in deep breaths but he couldn't stop the way that they hitched as he cried.

Eventually he managed to calm himself enough to stand on shaky legs and go back to the bed. He looked closely at the clothes Kurt had laid out for him and wondered if that's where he'd gone wrong, by specifically choosing something that would hide all his best assets under layers of baggy fabric. He touched the yoga pants, knowing that be more pleasing, hugging his ass and thighs tight. The shirt would show off his biceps and the muscles of his chest, hopefully it would draw more attention to the V of his hips than the pudge on his stomach that he just couldn't get to go away no matter what he did.

He changed quickly and sat on the other side of the bed, knees drawn to his chest, and waited. Nothing happened, no food came, Kurt didn't come back. If Kurt had a way of knowing he'd picked the wrong clothes he should surely have noticed that Blaine had changed for him into the right clothes… unless there were no right clothes, because Kurt didn't want him to wear anything and the clothes were a test. The most pleasing view for Kurt would be for Blaine to be naked at all times, clothes were a luxury, one Blaine wouldn't have anymore. What was the point of clothing when you were literally a human sex doll.

Blaine stripped out of the clothes, situating them carefully on the bed to try and make it seem like he hadn't touched them at all, before resuming his position against the headboard, chin resting on his knees as he watched the door. Still nothing happened.

Maybe he was in the wrong position, Kurt had seemed to like him on his knees the night before, so he climbed off the bed and kneeled a few feet away from the door, close enough to it that he would be the first thing Kurt saw when he finally came back, but far enough away that he wouldn't be hit by the door when it opened. As more time passed and his knees started to ache on the hardwood floor and Kurt still didn't return or send him some sign that he was doing what he was supposed to, Blaine folded in half, resting his forehead on the ground and clasping his hands behind his back. He'd screwed up a lot that day and if he wanted to not be punished too severely he needed to look like the picture of repentance.

He didn't know how long he waited there, eyes closed and concentrating on not crying again, he must have fallen asleep for a while because the next thing he heard was a sharp gasp from the doorway. He tightened his hands together, but didn't move from his position.

"Omygod, Blaine, how long have you been there?" Kurt asked in a rush, crossing to him quickly and pulling him up on his knees. Blaine's couldn't bite back the groan as his stiff back was straightened suddenly and his neck was jostled, making the crick in it very painfully known. "And where are your clothes? Did you not see what I left out for you to pick from?"

Blaine's mouth opened and closed a few time but he didn't know what to say. He thought he was doing what Kurt wanted, what he was supposed to do, and now with Kurt looking at him like he couldn't understand what Blaine had been thinking, kneeling naked in the doorway, left him not knowing what he'd been thinking either. And then his stomach growled loudly and Blaine remembered why he'd been trying to appease Kurt.

"Oh, Blaine," Kurt sighed, "dinner will be here soon. Get up and get dressed while I run to the bathroom real quick and then we'll eat together, how does that sound?"

Blaine nodded and Kurt walked away. Blaine ended up having to crawl to the bed, legs fast asleep and too stiff to possibly carry his weight. He put on the yoga pants and tight t-shirt.

* * *

The next few days went the same way, with Kurt being gone when Blaine woke up and not coming back until late that that evening. They'd eat dinner together, sitting on the couch, a few feet apart, mostly in silence. Then they went to bed, no sex, no kissing, Kurt didn't even cuddle him close, in fact he seemed to stay as far away from him as he could possibly get.

Blaine tried for the first couple of days to figure out what Kurt wanted him to do, but eventually he just started napping with a book on his chest that he'd attempted to read, the continuation of only having one meal a day was leaving him exhausted more often than not and he couldn't even rouse the energy to figure out how to earn more food.

On what Blaine thought was the fifth or sixth day of being with Kurt, the prince rushed into the room, quickly going to his closet in search of an outfit. "I'm so sorry, Blaine, but I have dinner with my father tonight, so I won't be able to eat with you. I shouldn't be out too late, but you don't have to wait up for me," and then he left the room as swiftly as he'd entered and Blaine was alone again.

Blaine foolishly assumed that even if Kurt wasn't eating with him, he would send food up for Blaine. But when it was almost three hours past their normal dinner time and nothing had come, Blaine went to bed ignoring the cramping of his stomach.

* * *

Blaine didn't know what was going on, but Kurt had had dinner with his father for four nights in row, which meant that Blaine hadn't eaten anything for four days. He was so hungry that his stomach had even stopped growling, like it too couldn't muster the strength to even make a sound, instead it just seized weakly every once in a while making Blaine let out a quiet whimper of pain.

After four days of constant hunger, Blaine was ready to do anything to be allowed to eat again, and the only thing is hunger addled brain could think of that Kurt was to get Kurt to fuck him. That had to be where he'd gone wrong, begging Kurt to just let him blow him that first night, and since Kurt wasn't making any move to right that wrong, it was up to Blaine to initiate it.

He reached carefully into the bedside table, pulling out the lube he'd found stashed in there a few days prior, and sat it on the bed beside him. He weakly squirmed out of his pants, tossing his shirt to the side as well, before rolling onto all fours and spreading his legs.

* * *

Kurt found that sharing a room with Blaine was actually pretty horrible. Not because Blaine was a bad roommate, no, he stayed out of Kurt's way, picked up after himself (if he had anything to pick up, Kurt wasn't actually sure what he did during the day), and he showered often enough that he didn't smell, so those were all plusses.

But sharing, not only a room, but a bed with someone who literally never spoke made everything very awkward, because the silence didn't seem natural, Blaine didn't seem like the kind of person who didn't speak, he just _looked _like the kind of person that would talk your ear off if you sat next to him on the train, but that's not what he did, instead he sat around with a book on his lap that it didn't look like he was actually reading, until Kurt called him over for dinner. Then he'd offer a polite 'thank you' and eat in silence. Kurt tried to get him to talk about his day the first couple of nights but when all Blaine seemed willing to respond with was a shrug or a noncommittal grunt he eventually gave up and let him be mute.

He was almost grateful that his father kept requesting his presence at dinner, that meant he only saw Blaine when he was asleep, which were reasonable times for the boy to be silent. So when he stepped back into the room and Blaine was very much not asleep, he'd frozen in shock.

He was kneeling on the bed, three fingers buried in his ass as he fucked them in and out, panting and whining quietly.

"Blaine," he choked out, and the boy looked back, startled, like he hadn't hear the door. Seeing Kurt didn't stop his ministrations.

"Kurt," he breathed, giving him an attempt at a smile, but it was strained and made him look more like he wanted to cry, "I-I'm ready," he said softly slipping his fingers out and sliding his hands under the pillow to clutch it close. Kurt was mesmerized by his gaping hole, clenching an fluttering around nothing, waiting to be filled, waiting to be filled by him, but then his eyes travelled down to Blaine's cock, dangling between his legs, completely soft, and then back up his body to the shaking of his shoulders and the way he had buried his face in the pillow to hide what Kurt was almost certain would be heart wrenching sobs as he resigned himself to his fate.

Kurt walked cautiously to the bed and pulled the blankets up over Blaine before walking away again. He expected that to calm him, Kurt's rejection of using him like a piece of meat, but Blaine just collapsed on the bed, sobs coming faster now, and sounding more like despair than relief.

"Please, please," he started gasping through his sobs, "please, please fuck me," and Kurt frowned, turning back to him. Blaine had been terrified of Kurt fucking him, he _still _looked terrified of Kurt's fucking him, and yet he was begging and pleading for him to do because _something_ had made him more scared of Kurt _not _fucking him.

Kurt sat gently on the bed and carefully placed a hand in Blaine's hair. Blaine immediately shuffled closer to him. "What's wrong, Blaine?" he asked softly but Blaine just sobbed harder, his pleas for Kurt to fuck him getting more broken. "Blaine," Kurt repeated, "I need you to tell me what's wrong, I can't help you if you don't talk to me."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he mumbled frantically, "I'm sorry I wouldn't let you the first night. I'm sorry, I won't fight now, please, please fuck me, please."

"Blaine, it's okay," he assured quickly, "you were scared, you're still scared, and that's fine, you don't have to do this."

Blaine sat up quickly, struggling his way onto Kurt's lap, "_Please_, Kurt, I'll-I'll ride you," he said, grinding his ass down against Kurt's crotch and the prince had to fight back a moan at how good that felt. Blaine's arms were shaking almost convulsively around him, his eyes wide and glassy and skin cold to the touch. Something was very wrong with him.

"No," he said resolutely, gently pushing Blaine back onto the bed.

"I don't know what to do," he cried softly.

"You don't have to do anything, just do what you've been doing, I don't mind. I might like it if you talked a bit more but if you really don't want to, I can live with a silent roommate. What brought on this freakout, I thought you were okay."

Blaine was staring at him like he'd suddenly sprouted a second head, mouth hanging open in disbelief. "Roommates, Kurt? Roommates? We're not roommates, I'm your sex slave, I'm not allowed to go anywhere without you, I am stuck in this room all day long, all alone, and I just want you to tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it!"

Kurt's mind was reeling. He's just assumed Blaine was doing okay, that he came and went as he pleased, hung out with the other slaves, found the kitchen. But he hadn't done any of that, because he thought he couldn't leave, and if he didn't leave that meant the only time he ate was when he ate with Kurt and they hadn't eaten together for four days which meant…

"Ohmygod," he breathed, standing quickly and rushing to the closet, "you did nothing wrong, Blaine," he said as he frantically grabbed clothes for Blaine, "and I'm so so sorry, we have to go to the kitchen right now and get you some food, okay?" he tossed the clothes at Blaine, thinking of all the quickest food he knew how to make.

* * *

He sat Blaine at the counter with half a loaf of homemade bread that was leftover from dinner and a glass of milk and started about making him an omelet.

"Ham, turkey, bacon, bologna, sausage, chiles, tomatoes, olives, what do you want?"

Blaine shrugged and started buttering a piece of bread.

"What of the ingredients I just listed do you dislike?" Blaine started to lift his shoulders in another shrug, but Kurt stopped him "Blaine, don't you dare shrug, I have been unintentionally starving you for the past two weeks and now I'm trying to fix that, so please, please, help me out by telling me what you like or dislike so I can make you something you'll actually enjoy eating because you deserve it."

Blaine paused, taking a sip of his milk before speaking. "I don't like chiles or bologna," he stopped there and Kurt smiled and started pulling all the other ingredients out of the fridge but Blaine surprised him, "I don't care much for ham or sausage either."

"Thank you, Blaine," he said, putting them back and turning to the stove.

"You don't happen to have any spinach do you?"

* * *

"I heard the prince was in here for a midnight snack," a voice came from the door when Blaine was on his last couple of bites of omelet and watching the growing stack of pancakes beside Kurt. Blaine jumped halfway out of his seat, but Kurt just turned and gave her a bright smile.

"Hey, Carole, Blaine was just… hungry," his smile fell a little, turning guilty, but he tried to not let it show "so I'm making him something to eat."

"Oh goody, I'll help and then we can make some warm milk and have our usual lady chat, it's been a while."

Kurt nodded, his smile growing again, "I was just finishing up the pancakes, then I was thinking of doing biscuits and gravy, how does that sound, Blaine?"

Blaine nodded, and Kurt frowned, hating that he had lapsed back into his silence, but he didn't question him on it. He'd figure out how to get Blaine talking later.

Carole watched them, hating how lost both boys looked, but she knew it wasn't her place to help them find their footing, they'd been thrown into a difficult situation and they needed to figure it out on their own.

"I'll start the biscuits then," she said brightly and Kurt gave her a soft smile.

"I'll make the gravy"

* * *

Kurt and Carole took up their usual spots at the opposite end of the counter from Blaine, mugs of warm milk sitting in front of them. Kurt stirred his, staring into the mug while Carole sipped on her's.

"So, Blaine's cute," she said quietly, watching as he switched from his half eaten plate of pancakes to the biscuits and gravy. He was slowing down, eyes starting to droop, but he didn't seem to want to stop eating, and Kurt couldn't blame him.

"Yeah," Kurt sighed.

"He's quiet though… and eats almost as much as Finn, which is a bit shocking considering how small he is, must be puberty."

Kurt swallowed the lump in his throat, shaking his head, "No, it's because I've been starving him."

Carole watched him carefully, "Kurt, you've never been cruel to a slave in your life, your father raised you too well."

Kurt sniffed, "I didn't realize I was doing it. God, I just… I couldn't even look at him. I-I raped him, Carole, and I didn't know how to look at him knowing what I'd done, so I didn't. I stayed away and I left him to his own devices. Only he didn't know he could leave the room, which meant he hasn't been eating anything except what I provided him with, and for the past four days that's been nothing," he drew in a shaky breath, "and he thought it was punishment for not letting me…"

Carole put a hand over his and he looked up, tears shining in his eyes.

"I'm a horrible person," he breathed.

"No," Carole shook her head, "you're a boy who's been dealt a difficult hand and you're not sure how to make it a good one."

Kurt laughed wetly, "Any tips?"

Carole smiled, "Don't run. Don't hide from your problems, don't hide from Blaine. Let him know what you expect from him, or don't expect from him, because right now, he's just as confused as you are, and you're the only one that can make things make sense for him."


	3. Chapter 3

**Warnings: Not much for this part, talk of slavery and noncon. That's really it.**

**A/N: So sorry I didn't update yesterday, this chapter was just being a bitch to write, but I still posted this weekend, so yay me.**

**Word Count: ~2,000**

Blaine startled when he woke the next morning and Kurt was sitting in bed beside him. He was leaning against the headboard with a textbook in his lap and a highlighter tapping his lips. Blaine shifted carefully to look at the clock on the bedside table, noting that it was later than he usually woke up and long past when Kurt would be gone.

Blaine's heart pounded as he thought of all the reasons for Kurt staying in today. Like Kurt finally deciding to stop being nice and just taking what was his. Blaine forced his breath to slow, sitting up slowly and shifting onto his knees to wait for whatever Kurt wanted him to do.

"Good morning, Blaine," he said, not looking at him, "you can go about your morning as usual, I have to finish this chapter, then I thought we'd go get breakfast together, how does that sound?" Kurt's brow was furrowed as he highlighted sections of his book as he spoke.

Blaine nodded dumbly, climbing out of bed and heading to the bathroom. He used Kurt's products, as little as possible since he had never really asked, but so far Kurt hadn't told him he couldn't, so he hoped he wouldn't be angry. He showered quickly and brushed through his curls, frowning as they flopped into eyes, he really needed a haircut.

Blaine cautiously left the bathroom with the towel clutched tightly around his waist. Kurt was standing in front of his open closet door, smoothing his waistcoat with his hands. He looked up from his reflection when he heard Blaine's steps stall and shift awkwardly by the bed. Kurt hadn't laid out clothes for him to pick from yet. Blaine's breath left him a little shakily, heart pounding at the possible implications of this.

"I thought I'd let you pick out your own outfit today," Kurt called from the closet, watching him carefully, "We need to get you some clothes, maybe we'll do that later today or tomorrow, but until then you can pick from any of mine."

Blaine approached Kurt carefully, stepping past him into the closet. Everything was perfectly organized, jeans neatly folded and sorted into piles based on both tightness and color. The shirts were the same, all of them hanging in groups, button ups, t-shirts, polos, tank tops, and Kurt's suits had an entire rack to themselves as well. Blaine had never seen such an abundance of clothes so meticulously placed in their exact spot. He wondered where his own clothes would go, if Kurt would find a way to give him his own section, or if he'd be relegated to the chest of drawers, where he assumed all of the sweats he'd been wearing lived because he didn't see a sign of any sort of comfort wear in the closet.

Blaine ran his hand along the jeans, missing his own skinny jeans and knowing he likely wouldn't fit in Kurt's. He was used to his own jeans being painted on, but Kurt was leaner than he was and Blaine doubted he'd be able to get them over his thighs, let alone his ass. Instead he pulled out a pair a dark violet straight legs and headed to the shirts where he selected a light grey button up and a black sweatervest.

He was heading back to the mainroom when the accesories caught his eye. He paused for a moment before carefully selecting a black, purple, and green striped bowtie.

"Underwear is in the chest of drawers," Kurt told him as he was lacing up his doc martens, "the ones on the left are yours, right are mine, the divide should be clear."

Blaine nodded even though Kurt wasn't looking at him, setting his clothes carefully on the bed and going to the chest of drawers. The divide was very clear, Kurt's stacked vertically while Blaine's were horizontal. Blaine grabbed a simple black pair of boxer briefs and went back to the bed. He dressed quickly, having to roll up the ankles of the pants a few times so they didn't cover his feet. He was tying his bowtie in the mirror when Kurt approached him.

"If I had known you had such good style, I'd have been letting you pick your clothes all week," Kurt praised.

Blaine's mouth quirked in a small smile, but he didn't say anything.

"You need shoes though," Kurt mumbled, slipping into the closet and coming back with a pair of black boat shoes with white lacing around the edges, "they might be a little big, but they'll be good for now." He went to the chest of drawers, finding a pair of peds and giving them to Blaine as well with a smile and a "to show off your adorable ankles."

Blaine pursed his lips, not sure how his ankles were adorable, but that didn't change the fact that he wore peds all the time because he hated for his socks to be seen, so he slipped them on and stepped into the shoes.

* * *

"You look positively dapper today, Blaine!" Carole said when they entered the kitchen. He blushed, giving her a small shrug. "And I love your curls, they're absolutely stunning, though you might need a trim soon if you want people to be able to see those gorgeous eyes of yours," she tugged on a strand of his hair that was resting just above his eyeline and he tensed. Her smile fell a little but she just plastered it back on and patted his cheek. "I'll have breakfast ready for you two in a just a couple of minutes."

Blaine watched her go and then looked around the rest of the kitchen that was… completely deserted. There was not another soul in sight, slave or otherwise. It had made sense for it to be so empty the previous night, but now it was strange that Carole would be all alone. Surely there were other people that needed to eat, and she couldn't be expected to cook for them all by herself.

"What is it?" Kurt asked making Blaine jump.

He turned to him and raised a questioning eyebrow.

"You look like you want to ask something, what is it?" he explained, leading them over to the same counter they'd sat at the night before.

Blaine sat and thought about whether he should answer or not. Carmichael had said he wasn't supposed to speak unless asked a direct question and, well, Kurt had asked.

"Where is everyone?"

Kurt looked around the kitchen, "Oh, the other slaves?" Blaine nodded, "Probably eating. It's past when the council usually has breakfast, so they're all free till lunch. Carole stuck around to eat with us."

"Is she a slave too? I thought she was in charge."

Kurt smiled, "She is in charge, but yeah, she's a slave too. Her and her son couldn't pay their taxes, they were just going to take him but she refused to let that happen so they took them both and luckily they were both sold to the castle, Carole in the kitchen and Finn in labor work."

Blaine frowned, shifting uncomfortably.

"It's horrible, I know, you can be a dollar short and lose a child, I wish we could change the laws but there are certain people that make it… difficult."

Blaine looked at him curiously, "You… want to change the slave laws?"

"Shocking isn't it?" Kurt said with a sad smile.

"Well, I am kind of your sex slave, so…"

Kurt looked down guiltily, twisting his hands together on the counter, "Blaine, I-"

"And breakfast is served," Carole said happily sliding plates in front of them and sitting herself on the opposite side of the counter from them.

Blaine looked down, stomach grumbling happily at the sight of german pancakes topped with powdered sugar and fresh strawberries.

"This look's amazing, Carole, thank you," Kurt said, giving her a weak smile.

"My pleasure, sweetie," she said as she started to cut into her own food. It was awkwardly silent for a few minutes as they ate, Blaine burning through his plate faster than anyone. It was a good thing Carole had doubled his portions.

Carole looked like she wanted to break the ice but she wasn't sure what would be okay to ask. Blaine's stay in the castle hadn't been all that pleasant so far, and bringing up his parents and his previous life would be touchy no matter what, whether Blaine was torn away from them thanks to financial problems, or if they'd willingly sold him. There wasn't a subject she could breach easily that wouldn't potentially upset him, so they continued to eat quietly.

Blaine finished first, pushing his plate away and folding his hands in front of him.

"I thought I'd take you on a tour of the castle next," Kurt said, "show you around so you know where everything is…"

"Actually," Blaine said quietly, "I'm kind of tired, I'd like to just… go back to the room, if that's okay."

Kurt frowned, he'd just woken up, he couldn't already be tired again…

"His body is still recovering from the starvation, Kurt," Carole said gently, "While he is getting the food he needs now, he'll still get tired easier for the next few days. A long walk wouldn't be ideal at the moment."

"Right… yeah, of course," Kurt gave Blaine a shaky smile, "we can go back and watch a movie, or something."

Blaine's brow scrunched in confusion, "You don't have a TV."

Kurt chuckled, "I have something better than a TV."

* * *

"What's your favourite colour?"

They were sitting on the couch in Kurt's room, watching Chicago on the screen that descended from Kurt's ceiling to rest in front of the piano.

Blaine looked at Kurt carefully, "What?"

"What's your favourite colour?" Kurt repeated, turning to face him.

"Why?"

Kurt shrugged, "Just curious."

Blaine bit his lip, looking at the screen and picking at his cuticles, "Red," he said with nervous swallow.

"Thank you, Blaine," Kurt said with a pleased smile.

"What's yours?" Blaine asked, pressing his lips together.

Kurt's grin widened, "Blue. What's your favourite scent?"

"Raspberry," Blaine answered, almost immediately this time, even though he still looked confused. "What's your favourite food?"

"Cheesecake," the firmness with which Kurt answered made Blaine giggle, but he quickly covered his mouth with his hand to hide it. They continued in that fashion for some time, asking question back and forth, until the credits had finished, the DVD menu screen was set on repeat, and they were both sitting crosslegged on the couch, only a few inches apart. Blaine was relaxed and smiling, no longer trying to hide it, there were even a few moments when he'd doubled over with laughter, almost landing himself in Kurt's lap as he did so, and he didn't even seem fazed when he was able to sit back up again.

And then Kurt apparently stepped over a line.

"What's your dream job?"

Blaine's smile fell almost immediately, and he shifted in his seat, arms folding loosely across his stomach. "Why does that matter?" he asked quietly.

Kurt stumbled over his words, "I- it's just a question."

"Yeah, but it doesn't matter, because I can't do it."

Kurt licked his lips anxiously, "I didn't mean to-"

"I had a dream," Blaine's arms tightened around himself, "I did, had it since I was four. But I can't have my dream anymore, the most I can hope for out of life now, is that you won't someday stop being a gentleman and use me for my intended purpose-"

"Blaine, I will never-"

"or that you won't get bored of me, and sell me to someone that will. My only dream from now on, is that I will survive to a normal age and manage to keep a part of myself in tact. There is no dream job for me, no hope for a better future, there is just survival, because as nice as this seems," he jerked his chin at Kurt, "I'd be a fool to hope for it to last."

"Blaine, I'm so-"

Blaine stood quickly, backing away from Kurt. "I'm gonna take a nap," he mumbled, quickly walking to the bed and climbing under the covers, leaving Kurt to sit there and figure out how to explain to Blaine that none of his fears were going to come true, and mostly, how to get him to believe it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Warnings: Talk of past noncon/dubcon, that is pretty much it for this chapter**

**A/N: Okay, I'm officially changing the update day for this story. I keep thinking I'll have time to write during the week, but then I don't so I end up rushing on Saturday to write the new chapter, and often don't end up posting it on time, so now I'm saying fuck it, I will update of Sundays. So there's that.**

**Word Count: ~ 4, 300**

To Kurt's disappointment, Blaine returned to his silence and after spending the majority of the morning talking and seeing Blaine as he should be, carefree and relaxed and chatty, it was even weirder than it was before. They went back to the kitchen for lunch and ate in silence, then they went back to the room and Blaine hid under the covers again, though Kurt wasn't actually sure if he was sleeping or just avoiding him. They repeated the process at dinner, then for each meal for the next three days.

Finally on the fourth day, Kurt took Blaine on the tour of the castle. Blaine followed behind him obediently, nodding along as Kurt explained what each room was and occasionally looking mildly curious about something, but he held his tongue.

Kurt didn't know what to do, how to fix it, he didn't want to force Blaine to talk since it was obvious he didn't want to, but he didn't abandon him again. Kurt spent as much time in the room as possible so if, by chance, Blaine decided he wanted to talk, or at least be in Kurt's presence, he would be there for him.

As more time went by and Blaine remained mute, only leaving the bed to eat or shower, Kurt started to go a little stir crazy and his father picked up on it, requesting they go for a ride the next morning. Pavarotti, Kurt's horse, was being severely neglected by the prince, and while there were plenty of slaves that took care of him, feeding, washing, and riding him, he missed his master and Kurt knew he needed to stop ignoring his horse so he agreed.

He shook Blaine's arm, or what he hoped was Blaine's arm as it was hidden under the duvet with the rest of him, to wake him. Blaine's head poked out just enough for Kurt to see the questioning raise of his eyebrow.

"I'm going out for a ride with my father, I don't know how long I'll be gone, but you can go to the kitchen and get food whenever you get hungry, okay?"

Blaine gave him a curt nod before burrowing back into his blanket nest. Kurt sighed and stood, slipping into his riding boots and leaving with a wistful glance back at the bed.

Burt and Kurt rode in silence for the most part, Burt occasionally pointing out a deer of a chipmunk, Pavarotti ambled along the trail happily. They enjoyed the sounds of nature around them and the escape from the pressures of running a city. They rode deep into the forest until they hit a small creek at about midday and stopped to let their horses rest and get a drink.

Kurt spread out the blanket he'd brought under a tree and started unpacking the lunch Carole had made for them, chicken salad sandwiches with apple slices and celery sticks.

"So when are you going to tell me what's wrong?" Burt asked as he ruefully ate the celery sticks Kurt handed to him.

"I don't know what you mean," Kurt feigned innocence, tearing the crust off his sandwich carefully. Carole had stopped cutting them off for him years ago when he'd gotten upset about being treated like a child, even though he didn't really like the crust. Now he just didn't want to make more work for her so he didn't ask her to start again.

"You know what I'm talking about, Kurt. A week ago you were always out caring for Pavarotti or hanging out with Finn and your friends, and when you weren't with them you were sitting in the garden reading, studying, and sometimes even sleeping. You did everything you could to avoid your room, now you barely leave it. What's going on?"

Kurt sighed, "I guess I'm just… having trouble adjusting."

Burt frowned, "Adjusting? You mean to Blaine?"

Kurt shrugged, "I just don't know what to do with him. I thought at first I'd leave him alone but that… ended up with him starving in complete isolation because he didn't know he could leave the room. So then I tried to talk to him and that went great until I asked the wrong question and upset him and now he won't talk. At all. And I'm trying to be there in case he changes his mind so he's not entirely isolated again, but nothing has changed and I don't know what to do, or how to fix things and make it better, and I'm really starting to think I can't and I don't know how to deal with living with a boy who doesn't talk and sleeps all day for, potentially, the rest of my life!" Kurt's voice cracked, face crumpling as he stubbornly fought back tears.

"Everything is complicated and confusing and I didn't even want him in the first place. And I thought it would be bad losing my virginity to someone I don't know, but someone who hates me is so much worse and I just wish it hadn't happened this way," Kurt squeezed his eyes shut as his father enveloped him in a tight hug.

"It was supposed to be perfect," he sobbed into his chest, fingers curling weakly into the fabric of his shirt, "I was supposed to be in love."

* * *

It was shortly after noon when Blaine stepped into the kitchen to find it buzzing with activity, many slaves working together to make lunch. He stood awkwardly by the door, trying to stay out of the way while he scanned the room for Carole, not sure what to do. He'd never seen this many people in the kitchen, him and Kurt always showed up after the meal rush when the kitchen was barren with only Carole around.

"Hey, sweetie," Blaine jumped as Carole appeared beside him, "I'll go heat your food up for you, do you want to eat it in here, or take it back to your room?"

Blaine noticed that Carole had started to do that over the past couple of days, referring to the room as his and Kurt's, not just Kurt's. Maybe it was supposed to make him more comfortable, feel like he belonged. But the room couldn't feel further from being his and he wasn't sure it ever would.

"I-I'd like to eat in here… if I won't be in the way," he requested softly.

Carole smiled, "Find a place at the counter, there's enough space for them to work around you." She gave him a swift, motherly kiss on the cheek before heading off to retrieve his food. Blaine found a seat at the end of the counter, a little ways away from the closest worker. He sat quietly, with his hands folded in his lap, watching the other slaves as they worked. A boy a bit older than him caught his eye, mostly because he had a mohawk and he was a bit surprised as the majority of the other slaves had simple, conservative cuts. He was trying to roll out pizza dough, and apparently failing if the frustrated furrow of his brow and the girl hovering around him muttering instructions was any indication.

"I suck at this, I know!" he suddenly shouted, making Blaine flinch. The boy dropped the roller on top of the dough angrily, stepping away and folding his arms over his chest as he glared, "I can haul wood even with a bum knee, I shouldn't have to be doing this shit."

Carole came up beside him, "Burt doesn't want you making your injury worse, you know he has your best interests at heart," she said gently, putting a hand on his arm. The boy softened a bit.

"I know," he sighed, "I just… don't understand how to do this. It's not my skill set."

Carole gave him a sympathetic smile, "Lily," she addressed the girl that had been hovering around him, "you roll the dough, Puck can add the toppings." Lily smiled brightly, grabbing the roller and starting to fix the misshapen pizza crust Puck had been making.

Carole came back over to him with his food in tow. Just as she was sitting it down, another boy came crashing into the kitchen. He barely paused before spotting Carole and making a beeline for her. "Mom, Mom, Mom," he said excitedly, "guess what just happened?" he plopped himself down in the seat next to Blaine, immediately reaching over and stealing a hash brown from the plate Carole was pushing towards Blaine. Carole said nothing, snatching it back and placing it on Blaine's plate again. The boy frowned.

"So what just happened?" distracting the boy and his smile stretched across his face again.

"Okay, okay, so, yesterday, there was this little girl, I think she's the daughter or the granddaughter of someone on the council, or maybe a visiting noble, I'm not sure, but she was asking to ride one of the horses. And I thought, sure, why not, she was like, twelve, so not young enough that I'd worry about her getting hurt. So, I saddled Pavarotti for her, since he's the sweetest, and also Kurt's kind of been neglecting him lately, so I figured he wouldn't be out to ride him."

Blaine startled a bit at the use of Kurt's name, did all the slaves just call him by name?

"Anyway, she was riding around, and I was keeping a close eye on her, and she was good, but I still ended up correcting her form a bit, to make her better. And apparently, her nanny saw me and said that I should give lessons. I didn't think anything about it, because I'm a slave and a stable hand, who would want lessons from me, right?

"_But_ today, Burt came to me and asked if I would like to take over some of the lessons. With me teaching more kids can come and learn that wouldn't be able to pay for Joe's lessons, since he demands such a high salary, but I don't get a salary, so the prices for my lessons can be lower. Isn't that awesome?"

Carole smiled fondly at her son, "That's amazing, Finn, you'll be an incredible teacher, when do you start?"

"They want me to do a few lessons with Joe first, watching him to make sure I know what I'm doing, so a few weeks, maybe," he shrugged, "Burt didn't give me all the details yet, but, still, it's happening." He was bouncing excitedly in his seat and Blaine couldn't help being reminded of a dog. A big giant St. Bernard, adorable, but able to suffocate you if they get too excited and tackle you too hard.

Then Finn turned to him, brow furrowing as if he just realized he didn't know the boy sitting quietly next to him. "Who are you?"

Blaine didn't answer, not sure how. Did he want a name? Did he want to know why he was here? Did he want to know what his job was? Luckily, Carole answered for him.

"This is Blaine."

Finn's eyes widened comically, "Like… Kurt's Blaine?"

Blaine nodded carefully, surprised that Finn knew who he was.

"Uh- wow, I thought you were like… a total hermit, but, wow, nice to meet you finally."

Blaine offered a small smile before turning back to his food. He heard Carole gently chide him for calling Blaine a hermit, but Blaine couldn't blame him since that was kind of what he was. If not leaving bed for almost a week didn't make you a hermit, Blaine wasn't sure what did.

"Uh, dude," Finn said, nudging his shoulder lightly to get Blaine to look at him, "I know my mom's food is amazing, but I swear it's just as good in the mess hall with the rest of us. I was just going to head there, if you want to join me…"

Blaine swallowed nervously, glancing to Carole who just smiled encouragingly. Blaine shrugged and nodded, grabbing his last piece of bacon before standing. Finn looked at him strangely but didn't comment, standing as well.

Carole stopped them before they could get too far. "Oh, please take Puck with you as well, I think he's trying to make penises with the olives."

* * *

"So Kurt wasn't kidding about you not talking," Finn said when they sat down at their table. Blaine choked on his pizza, surprised, because not only did Finn know who he was, Kurt himself had apparently talked to this boy about him.

"Wait," Puck said, mouth full, "you're Blaine? I thought you were just new."

Blaine shook his head, sipping on his water to ease the burn.

"Well it's great to finally meet you, what's it like to have sex with Kurt?"

Blaine choked on his water this time, startled by Puck's forwardness. He pushed his plate and cup away as he coughed, deciding it would be best for his survival if he didn't have anything in his mouth during this conversation.

"Dude," Finn cringed, "I don't want to hear about that."

"What?" Puck said, "I'm curious. Is he commanding in bed, or sweet and gentle, or is he shy and lets you take the reins? He could easily be any of those, he has a very multi faceted personality."

Blaine was a bit shell shocked, not sure how to respond to Puck's questions. He just kind of sat there, blinking awkwardly while Puck stared at him expectantly and Finn feigned uninterest. He was saved for a few seconds when a blonde boy sat himself next to Blaine.

He paused with pursed lips when he noticed how quiet they all were. "Umm… what's going on?"  
"I'm just trying to get Blainey here to tell me what it's like to have sex with Kurt but he seems determined to keep up his selective muteness." Puck said, not taking his eyes off of the smaller boy.

The other boy scoffed, "Yeah, because Kurt would _actually _have sex with him," and promptly dug into his food.

Blaine wet his lips, not sure if he should be offended on his own behalf or Kurt's. Did this boy think he wasn't good enough for Kurt? Or that Kurt was incapable of having sex?

"You've heard him thanking Carmichael for his present, telling him how wonderful he is at his job," Puck pointed out and Blaine's stomach dropped. Kurt talked to Carmichael about him, Kurt thanked him, talked about him like an object, a toy. But the other boy was quick to counter.

"He was obviously lying. Of course he has to act like he loves him and he's being a perfect little slave, or Carmichael will use his gratefulness as even more fodder for the council to hate him, so instead he lies because he wouldn't even touch this boy because he can't consent."

Blaine shifted anxiously in his seat, not sure what to make of this boy's speech about Kurt. Kurt had had sex with him, but he hadn't touched him since in anyway but helpful, so was the boy right or wrong?

Two girls came and sat at the table, quickly joining in on the debate as to whether or not Kurt had really had sex with Blaine or not, and Blaine was starting to feel overwhelmed with the amount of people surrounding him, too used to being in isolation with only the sound of magazine pages turning or whatever movie Kurt was watching for company. Suddenly there were five people around him, all talking about him.

"What's wrong with the puppy?" the blonde girl asked and all eyes turned to him. His breath was coming in shaky and his face was pale.

"I have to go," Blaine mumbled, standing quickly and turning to leave but running promptly into a strong chest. Hands grabbed his biceps to steady him.

"Whoa, are you o-" they broke off abruptly when Blaine looked up and his breath stopped.

"Nick?" he gasped, tears clogging his throat.

"Blaine?" Nick's face was mixture of surprise and joy and pain. Blaine couldn't focus too much on it as he threw his arms around Nick, burying his face in his shoulder. Nick carefully wrapped his arms around him to hug him back and Blaine broke, the weeks and weeks of pain and fear and confusion breaking through the numbness he'd built up to hide it away and all he could do was cling to Nick and cry.

Blaine wasn't sure how long they stood there, everyone else turned back to their meal, conversing quietly again after a bit and Blaine couldn't tell if they were still talking about him or not, but he couldn't bring himself to care, because finally there was someone he knew, someone he could let his guard down around, someone he could trust, and that was what he needed the most.

* * *

Kurt sat back, wiping his eyes and sniffling a bit. "Blaine has it so much worse," he mumbled quietly, picking apart the crust he'd pulled from his sandwich, "I have no right to cry about this."

Burt covered Kurt's hands with one of his own, still his anxious movements. "Blaine's pain, or anyone's pain for that matter, doesn't diminish your pain. It doesn't matter if it's worse or not. You have a right to be feeling what you are feeling and no one and nothing can stop you from feeling this pain. You lost something important to you, it's okay to be upset about that."

Kurt shook his head, "I didn't _have _to have sex with him, no one was holding a gun to my head. I needed to, but I didn't have to. He had no choice in the matter. I lost the dream of my perfect first time, he lost everything."

"Carmichael put you in a difficult position, he made you choose between you own morale and your need for the council to accept you. He wanted this to be hard, he wanted you to lose something no matter your decision, he's at fault here, not you."

"I'm lying anyway, telling them I'm using him when I'm not. Maybe I should have just lied entirely, never even touched him. Taken him back to the room and tucked him into bed. Maybe then he wouldn't be so terrified of me."

"You've never told them you're using him, only that you have used him, they don't know how many times or how long it's been. You're not lying, that was the point, to keep you honesty intact."

"What good is honesty if I'm a rapist?"

Burt sighed, "Have you explained any of what's going on to Blaine?"

Kurt shrugged, "Not really, I told you he doesn't talk."

"He doesn't have to talk, he just has to listen. Right now, he's just confused, he doesn't know what's going at all. He expected one thing from you, and it's not what he's gotten and he doesn't know why. He deserves to understand."

Kurt ran a hand through his hair, "That's what Carole said."

Burt smiled, "Well, Carole's a very smart woman."

"I just don't know how," Kurt said in frustration. "How do I explain to him why I raped him? How do I explain that the council is full of assholes who don't want me on the throne? How do I explain to him that Carmichael chose him because he knew he'd be terrified? How do I tell him any of this? Because _I don't know_."

"I don't know either, that's one you'll have to figure out on your own."

* * *

Eventually Blaine and Nick sat down again, Blaine tucked close to Nick's side. They'd never been overly affectionate with each other before, too scared of their parents reading into it and figuring out their biggest secrets, but now Blaine had to make sure Nick was real and that he wasn't leaving him again. Blaine scooted his uneaten Pizza over to Nick, since he was currently the reason he couldn't go and get his own food.

"Are you not hungry?" Nick asked softly.

Blaine shook his head, "I ate earlier."

Nick ate in silence, everyone else was chatting and Blaine was glad to hear they had moved topics to whatever Puck had done to his knee. He wasn't paying close enough attention to keep up with what seemed to be a wild story. He was content to sit with Nick's arm around his shoulder, holding him close and together so he could fall way and break again. He knew he should have a million questions to ask him, but at that moment all he wanted to do was bask in the presence of his friend who he thought he'd never see again.

But good things don't last for Blaine and soon enough everyone was watching them again.

"So…" the blonde boy, Sam, Blaine thought he'd heard Finn call him that, started, "are you two like… together?"

And that question stirred something in Blaine, the question he desperately needed an answer for. "Where's Jeff?" he asked, excitement gripping his chest as he sat up straighter, looking around, even though he logically knew that if Jeff were in the room he'd be sitting with them, "Is he here? What's his job?"

Nick's face fell and he swallowed thickly, "Uh, no, Jeff isn't here, he got sold somewhere else."

Blaine deflated back into Nick's side, his hope crashing down on him, making his heart feel heavier about the loss of his friend than it had in years. A part of him wanted to ask about Quinn and Mike but he was too scared of getting the same answer so he stayed quiet.

"Um, to answer your question, Sam, no, we're not, we're just friends who haven't seen each other in a long, long time," Nick said, rubbing Blaine's shoulder soothingly.

"Good," the Latina girl, Santana, said, "I don't think the prince would have appreciated his fuck toy having a boyfriend."

Blaine tensed, blushing furiously. He didn't want Nick to know what his job was, he wanted to pretend that wasn't what he was supposed to do, that he worked in the kitchen with Carole, or the stables with Finn, but now Nick knew. He was Kurt's fuck toy, even if he was vastly unused.

"So you're the present Carmichael gave him," Nick mused and Blaine nodded weakly. "He's nice though, right? Treats you well?"

Blaine thought for a second, "I think he's trying to."

"But the question still remains," Puck interjected, "have you actually had sex with him?"

"I don't think that's any of your business, Noah," Nick said, angrily.

Blaine swallowed, glancing around the table before whispering, "Yeah… yeah, I have."

Sam gasped in outrage, "No!" he shouted, making Blaine flinch and cower into Nick's sid, "No! No, no, no! Kurt wouldn't do that, not in a million year would he have sex with a slave, he'd marry a woman before he did that!"

"Of course he would," Puck said, "out of duty or fake gratitude or some stupid noble shit like that. What really speaks to Kurt's character is how many times they've had sex." He turned to look pointedly at Blaine.

"J-just the once," he stuttered out.

"On the first night, I'm guessing?"

Blaine nodded.

"See? Just what I thought, he has sex with Blaine to accept the gift out of honor to the council and Carmichael, and then to uphold his own personal honor, he hasn't touched him since."

Sam still looked incredibly upset about the whole thing, "He was gentle though, right? He made it good for you?"

"Yeah," Blaine said quietly, "he, uh, he didn't even make me go all-all the way. I think he could tell I was scared."

Finn's brow furrowed, "But you said you had sex…"

"Finn, if you think penetration is the only way to have sex, I feel seriously sorry for any girl you've been with," Santana snapped.

"There are other ways to have sex?" Finn asked, genuinely surprised.

Santana rolled her eyes, "Give me a list of every girl you've had sex with inside this castle so Brittany and I can go make up all the orgasm they didn't get from you."

Finn flounder, stuttering out a response but a small voice interrupted him.

"My unicorn must be so upset about this," Brittany said quietly, looking stricken.

"What do you mean, Brit?" Sam asked.

"He wanted to be in love when he lost his virginity, and Carmichael made him give it to someone he didn't know."

Blaine's jaw dropped, "Kurt was a virgin?"

"It's not like he had many options," Nick told him, "homosexuality isn't exactly accepted so most people that work in the castle are either straight or in the closet. There are a couple of other gay slaves, but Kurt wouldn't have sex with any of them because he could never really know if they were saying yes because they wanted to or yes because they thought they had too. He hoped to find someone and fall in love one day, but it wasn't really working out. He was determined to wait for 'the one' though. Looks like Carmichael ruined that for him too."

Blaine frowned. He hadn't even thought about Kurt being upset by this, he had felt so wronged by the whole situation and he couldn't understand that Kurt didn't want any of it either but was under pressure to live up to expectations and use him. He suddenly felt horrible for how he'd ignored him, he hadn't even given Kurt a chance to explain the things he still didn't completely understand.

"I hope he falls in love with you," Brittany said with a kind smile, "so then it will be like his dream came true."


	5. Chapter 5

**Warnings: Talk of face slapping, panic attacks on Blaine's part, slavery, pretty sure that's it. **

**A/N: So, so terribly sorry for the fact that I didn't update this or La Pute last week, I got horrible writers block on this chapter and spent so much time trying to write it that I didn't get around to La Pute so I just took an unplanned week long hiatus to sort things out, and, funnily enough, what I had planned to have happen in this chapter that was blocking me so much, ended up not actually happening, but we'll be jumping right into it at the beginning of the next chapter, and it's flowing much better now. And I will be updating La Pute tomorrow after I get home from work as I usually do, so at about 5 PM MST. Onto the story.**

**Word Count: ~ 3,500**

Kurt and Burt made it back to the castle shortly before dinner. Kurt spent a little more time in the barns with Pavarotti, spraying him down, brushing out his fur, and picking the rocks and dirt out of his hooves before putting him back in his stall with plenty of grain for the night. Finally he made it back to his room, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

He paused in the doorway when he saw that one, Blaine was not asleep, he was sitting on the couch with a bright smile on his face, and two, he wasn't alone, with Nick sitting close beside him and arm wrapped around his shoulders and Blaine's head resting comfortably in the junction where Nick's neck and shoulder met, face pressing further into Nick's throat as Blaine laughed.

Something bitter settled in Kurt's stomach, and he shifted unconsciously as his eyes travelled down to the way their hands were entwined together on Blaine's thigh. Kurt's heart clenched painfully. He'd been sharing a room with Blaine for a month, trying his hardest to be good to him, and he would barely look at him. Now he'd just met Nick and Blaine was already more relaxed with him than he'd been in even his good moments with Kurt. Kurt took a few steps backward as pressure started to build behind his eyes, needing to get out of there and sort out what he was feeling and why his throat was clogging up and making breathing difficult and…

He heard the impact more than he felt it, the slave behind him hitting the wall and the clothing they'd been carrying flying everywhere. He spun quickly to see the small brunette dropping to her knees with her head bowed as she fearfully started shaking. She was new and he didn't know her name.

"I'm sorry, your highness," she gasped, "I-I was distracted, I'm so-"

"Hey, no," Kurt said dropping to his knees next to her and starting to pick up the clothes, "it's my fault, I wasn't watching where I was going."

She looked at him, eyes wide with panic, "S-sir, I'll clean up, you really shouldn't-"

"It was my fault, therefore I should help, it's no big deal," he set one folded shirt on top of the pile and reached for another, frowning when he saw the brown stains covering the back.

"I-I tried to get those out, Sir," she said quietly, "I washed it five times. Everyone said it was okay, but-but I can take it back and try again"

Kurt shook his head, setting the shirt away from the pile, "It looks like manure, probably one of Finn's, I swear he loses at least four shirts a week to rolling around in the mud with the horses. We'll just throw it away," he gave her a soft smile but her breath was still quick with fear. "And you can call me Kurt, you know," he said kindly, reaching over to still her shaking hands where they were anxiously trying and failing to fold a pair of Puck's signature ripped up jeans (he claimed the rips came from his work, but the lines were much too precise and straight, but Kurt humoured him and asked him about the story behind each new tear).

"C-Carmichael was very specific that all slaves refer to you with terms of respect, never your name, your-your highness. He even slapped Brittany for referring to you as her unicorn."

Kurt's eyes narrowed but he tried to soften his gaze when he saw her shrinking in on herself, "What's your name, sweetheart?"

"R-rachel," she stuttered.

"Rachel, do you know who runs this castle?" he asked carefully.

"The-the king?"

"Exactly, and he has the most power over the slaves. He makes the rules, the job assignments. And when he's not here, that job falls to me. Do you know who never gets that job?"

She pursed her lips, shaking her head.

"Carmichael. Which means what I say goes, not what he says, okay?"

She nodded quickly.

"Now, I would like for you to call me by my name. If it makes you feel more comfortable you can call me the prince while any council member is around, but when you're just with me, or with the other slaves, I would like you to refer to me as Kurt, can you do that?"

She gave another cautious nod, "I-I can… Kurt."

He smiled, patting her hand and went back to folding the clothes. When they were all placed carefully back in the basket, he stood, his knees cracking, and held out a hand to help Rachel up before leaning over to pick the basket up and handing it to her.

"Thank you, Kurt," she said with a nervous smile.

"I have one more request," he said, stopping her when she started to walk away. She turned back, looking at him carefully, "if you see Carmichael punishing any of the other slaves, the way he did Brittany, notify me as soon as you can without getting yourself put in the path of his wrath. That's not his job, and I'd like to know when he's doing it, okay?"

"Yes, Kurt," she said, her smile becoming more relaxed. He patted her shoulder as she walked away, turning back to his door and jumping when he saw Nick and Blaine standing there watching him. Nick was smiling, almost proudly, at him, Blaine's brow was furrowed in concentration but he had a soft smile on his face too. Kurt started to return the smile until he saw their hands still linked between them and his face fell, the sick feeling returning to his gut and reminding him why he'd been fleeing the room in the first place.

Blaine noticed the change and followed Kurt's eyes to their hands, immediately letting go and wrapping his arms around his stomach instead, eyes going downcast and smile falling from his face to be replaced by a look of fear and Kurt could already see the nervous tremors starting up. "I-I'm sorry," he mumbled quietly, "I sh-should have asked before invit-inviting Nick back to the r-room."

"No, no," Kurt said, shaking his head, "it's fine," his voice didn't sound fine, it sounded hoarse and hurt, so he cleared his throat and tried again, "really, I'm glad you're making friends. That's good, I don't-don't want your life to revolve around me. Should I give you two some more time alone…"

Nick shook his head sadly, "I wish I could stay longer, but if you're back that means Burt's back, and he's not going to assist himself so I really should get going."

Blaine looked like he was going to protest, eyes darting anxiously between Nick and Kurt but Nick just pulled him into a tight hug. Blaine froze for a second, looking at Kurt over Nick's shoulder, but Kurt was pretending to not look at them, even though he was, and it hurt more than he liked when Blaine finally melted into hug and clung to Nick. Kurt could hear Nick whispering in his ear and he could only make out little bits of what he was saying.

"He's not angry…" , "He won't hurt you…", "You need to talk to him…"

Kurt saw the way Blaine kept nervously glancing at him, not looking like he quite believed Nick. "I don't want you to go," Blaine whispered and Kurt's heart broke at how scared he sounded.

"You're safe with Kurt," Nick assured him.

Blaine's response was so quiet Kurt had to strain his ears to hear him, "Don't disappear on me again," he whimpered, "I need you, I can't do this alone."

"I'll come back tomorrow," Nick promised, squeezing Blaine even tighter before letting him go and stepping away. Blaine looked near tears, his arms wrapping tightly around himself again as he tried to hold himself together. Nick glanced to Kurt and then back to Blaine. They seemed to have a silent conversation with only their eyebrows and a jerk of Nick's head and then Blaine sighed and went back into the room. Nick turned to Kurt.

He gave him a gentle, but stern smile. "Kurt," he said, "I know you're confused, I know this is difficult for you and you're just trying your best. but you can't just keep ignoring Blaine or letting him ignore you, because that's not going to make the problem go away. It's only going to make things worse."

Nick placed his hand on Kurt's shoulder waiting until he looked at him, "Talk to him, explain what is going on, explain what your plans are for his future, because, yes, _you _are in charge of his future and it'd calm him down if he knew what you were planning. He's not a mind reader, Kurt, and neither are you, so the only way to figure things out is to talk to him about it."

Kurt opened his mouth the protest but Nick shook his head.

"I know, I know, Blaine doesn't like to talk about the complicated things, especially when he's upset. It's even more difficult when the only person he really has to blame for all of this is you. Part of him knows it's not your fault and you're trying, but that doesn't change the fact that the majority of his anger and hurt is being focussed towards you. You're going to have to force him to talk to you, and I know you don't want to, but if you don't, he's never going to come looking for answers and his resentment of you is only going to grow until his hatred becomes irreversible, trust me, I've seen it happen before. I was on the receiving end of that resentment for a while and the only way I stopped it from ruining our friendship was by making him talk to me about what was wrong.

"Kurt," Nick sighed, "I don't know if you've fully comprehended this yet, but you're stuck with him for the rest of your life. You can't free him, and I know you won't sell him, so this is forever. You think it's hard to live with someone who won't talk to you? That's just how his anger is presenting itself right now, you're not going to like it when it turns to pure hatred and everything you do disgusts him and is met with a sneer. Stop it now before it goes too far. Help him redirect his anger to the people who actually did this to him and show him you're going to do everything you can to make his life as nice as possible, okay?"

Kurt nodded, thoughts racing to process Nick's words. Him and Blaine had known each other for a while, and since Blaine had only been a slave for a month that meant it was pre-enslavement for him and possibly even pre-enslavement for Nick too. Nick knew him, and he knew him well enough to tell Kurt with complete conviction what he needed to do to fix their problems and what would happen if he didn't.

Nick didn't say anything else, seeing from the lost in thought look on Kurt's face that he was already deciding how to go about this. He gave him a quick, reassuring hug and left the prince to work things out with Blaine.

Kurt carefully stepped back in the room, shoulders slumping when he saw that Blaine was curled up on the bed again, fist pressed to his mouth and shoulders shaking minutely. Kurt sighed, deciding he'd give Blaine a little while to calm down before he tried to make him talk and went to the bathroom for a quick shower.

Blaine was still on the bed when he came back, but now he was sitting up against the headboard, knees curled protectively towards his chest as he stared at the bed. Kurt knew he needed to talk to him, but his stomach grumbled loudly and he realized he hadn't eaten anything since the sandwiches with his father earlier that afternoon and it was getting past dinner time.

"Blaine?" he said softly, standing at the foot of the bed. Blaine raised his eyes just enough to show that he was listening. "Do you mind if we just eat in here tonight? I don't really feel like going to the kitchen at the moment."

Blaine swallowed, giving Kurt a short nod before wrapping his arms around his knees and hiding his face in them. Kurt wet his lips with a sigh and picked up the phone to call the kitchen. He could feel the shake of Blaine's body as he perched himself on the edge of the bed, even hear the quiet gasps as he started crying again. Kurt didn't know what was wrong this time, or if he just hadn't gotten it out during his last cry so he let him be and next called the slave quarters.

He'd neglected a lot of his duties in the past week, spending all his energy on Blaine, but this was a duty he refused to let go. He asked for Brittany when the phone was answered, smiling when her cheery voice came across the line. He requested she join him for dinner in his room and she immediately told him she was okay, he didn't need to worry-she knew what a request like that meant, what he'd found out about-but he insisted she come and she only agreed after he okayed Santana joining them as well. He'd expected as much and called the kitchen back to request that two more meals be brought up.

Brittany and Santana didn't knock when they arrive, Santana simply barged in with a snappy order to put their clothes back on. Normally Kurt would have just rolled his eyes at the comment, but he saw the way Blaine sat straight up, wiping the tears from his face with shaking hands and looked at the girls tensely, made Kurt grind his teeth together.

Brittany made a beeline for Kurt, hugging him before pulling away, avoiding his hands as he tried to make a grab for her face to check for bruising or redness as evidence of Carmichael's attack, and darting over to Blaine to hug him tight. Blaine stiffened in the hold, eyes wide and panicked as they darted to Kurt. Brittany pulled back, the sweet smile falling from her face when she caught sight of Blaine's red rimmed eyes and tear stained face.

"Aww, puppy," she cooed, pulling a tissue from the box beside the bed to wipe at his face with,"don't be sad. I promise he didn't hurt me badly."

Blaine's brow furrowed and he was too stunned to pull away when she kissed him on the cheek before scooting to sit beside him and hold his hand.

"I don't think Blaine wants to be touched right now, Brit," Santana said sternly, watching how still he was, back ramrod straight and knees still held tight to his chest by his free arm, hand twitching in Brittany's grasp. She turned a glare on Kurt who looked down guiltily, not sure what had Blaine so scared at the moment, but he had no doubt that he was the cause of it.

Brittany's shoulders slumped, "Hand holding should make you feel better, not worse," she said dejectedly.

Blaine glanced nervously at Kurt who tried to give him an encouraging smile, but it probably came out a cringe with the guilt twisting in his gut. Blaine pulled his hand away from Brittany, wrapping it back around himself and staring at his feet.

Kurt sighed, "C'mere, Brit, let me look at your face."

Brittany frowned but climbed off the bed and went to stand in front of Kurt. Kurt cupped her jaw gently, twisting her head to each side, "Where did he hit you?" she tapped her right cheek. There was no bruising or redness but she winced when he prodded it with his fingers. "When did this happen, Brit?"

She shrugged, "A couple of days ago, it really didn't hurt that bad, Kurt."

"Doesn't mean you deserved it," he said quietly. "Was it just the once?" Brittany nodded. "You should have come told me."

"You're sad all the time lately, unicorn, I didn't want to make you even sadder."

"What good will I be as a king if my subjects won't tell me when things are wrong so I can help? If Carole were sick or hurt, would you all try to hide it from me? Even if you knew it would make me sad?"

Brittany shook her head, "No, the kitchen would be chaos without Carole, we'd all starve."

"And what makes you any different? You're just as important to this castle as Carole or Nick or Finn, you don't need to be head of the kitchen, or assistant to the king, or stable leader for me to care about you. When any of you are hurt, I want to know, so I can help, especially if you've been hurt by a member of the council. You can't fight back against them, but I can, and I will to keep you all safe, do you understand me?"

"No, Kurt," Brittany said, "you shouldn't fight with Carmichael. He'll take away your throne, then what will happen to us?"

"If I sat back and let him treat those I care about poorly I'd lose the faith of the part of the council that actually likes me. I can't appease them all, and I'd rather appease the one's I don't constantly want to strangle."

"Then why did you have sex with Blaine?"

Kurt froze, seeing Blaine stiffen out of the corner of his eye. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes. "Because even some of the nicer council members want me to be something I'm not. Protective of what I care about, or what belongs to me, is a good trait to them. But they still have slaves and being ungrateful is not something they like." He kissed her right cheek gently and dropped his hand away from her jaw. Blaine was watching him with that same thoughtful look he'd had after watching Kurt with Rachel. Brittany danced back over to the bed, sitting next to Blaine again and bumping shoulders. Blaine's eyes were cautious as he stared at Kurt, carefully unfolding an arm and reaching it out for Brittany to take his hand. She did so with a bright smile and Kurt gave one in turn that made Blaine relax slightly, head dropping back to rest against the headboard and legs folding underneath himself instead of held tightly to his chest.

"Don't get too touchy with her, Blaine," Santana said sternly, coming to sit at the foot of the bed, facing Brittany and Blaine, "Hand holding is all you get for now. Once you've proven you're a true gold-star gay, I might approve of some cuddling, got it?"

Blaine eyed her nervously and even though her eyebrows were raised in a threatening manner, the corner of her mouth was curled up in a teasing smile. Blaine nodded returning the look with a small smile of his own.

* * *

They ate dinner on the bed. Blaine remained mostly quiet through the whole meal, only speaking when he was asked a question. His posture wasn't as open or relaxed as it could have been, but he didn't close back up, for which Kurt was grateful. When they were finished eating, Brittany laid her head on Blaine's shoulder. He froze for a second, glancing nervously between Kurt and Santana, when neither made a move to comment, continuing their conversation with Brittany, he settled back into the headboard, carefully leaning his cheek against the top of Brittany's head.

When the girls finally left Blaine opened his arms for a hug from brittany, hugging her close with eyes closed in contentment. He even offered Santana a quick little hug before Kurt was ushering them out the door, reminding them to tell him if any of the council overstepped their bounds and punished one of the slaves.

Blaine stood carefully, and went to the chest of drawers to pull out some sleep clothes. It took him a few minutes to find the right drawers, having never actually pulled his own sweats out, Kurt always grabbing them for him, but he was tired and didn't feel like asking Kurt, so he did it himself.

When he came out of the bathroom after changing, Kurt was leaned against the headboard, brow furrowed and eyes staring unseeingly at the wall. He crossed the room quietly and went to climb under the covers but Kurt caught his arm, shaking his head. "We need to talk, Blaine," he said quietly.

Blaine swallowed nervously and sat on top of the covers beside Kurt, waiting quietly. Kurt took a deep breath and spun abruptly towards him.

"I think it's time you knew the rules of being my slave."

And Blaine stopped breathing.


	6. Chapter 6

**Warnings: Dubcon, slavery, Past character death.**

**A/N: Whoa, so this chapter is hella long and I basically throw a shit ton of information in your faces. But that's good, because it's stuff both you and Blaine need to know, so why not tell you at the same time? Also, a few of you questioned Blaine's behavior in the last chapter, considering the complete 180 he turned from starting to trust Kurt to being terrified again, that is also explained. I hope you enjoy :)**

**Word Count: ~ 5,100**

Kurt saw the moment Blaine's eyes widened in panic and immediately backtracked. "Shit, wait, that sounded wrong, I just meant I should tell you what I expect of you."

Blaine's breath was quick as he instinctively curled in on himself, shying away from Kurt when he stupidly reached out to try and soothe him.

"No, no, Blaine, that-that was wrong too. What I mean is, I don't expect anything of you, okay?" Kurt said, hoping that made more sense, and for a second it seemed to, Blaine's eyes losing their wild look, tremors of terror slowing slightly, until, apparently, a different translation, a very wrong translation, of those words occurred to him and he was straddling Kurt's lap, shaking hands gripping his hair painfully tight as he pressed a hasty, anxious kiss to Kurt's mouth.

Kurt froze for a minute, not sure how to respond as Blaine clung to him, mouth moving down to kiss along his throat and his hand went to Kurt's crotch, massaging him through his pants. Kurt choked back a moan, eyes rolling back his head, hips jerking fitfully to press himself harder into Blaine's hand even though he knew he really shouldn't, but the way Blaine was sucking just on the underside of his jaw was making it really hard for him to think of why he should be stopping this.

Only when Blaine squeezed a little too hard, making Kurt grunt in pain and dimming the haze of arousal buzzing through his body, did he feel the way Blaine was sobbing into his neck where he was leaving open mouthed kisses with every gasp, tears dripping onto his shoulder, and murmuring quiet pleas.

"Don't sell me, please don't, please. I'll be good, I'll be quiet, or-or loud, whatev-whatever you want, just please, please, please, don't get rid of me."

Kurt pushed Blaine gently off of him and Blaine's hands scrambled for the button on his pants, but Kurt pulled them away, pressing them tightly to the bed when Blaine fought against him. Blaine slumped, bent fully in half over his knees, hands held above his head by Kurt and sobbing into the mattress. "Let me fix it," he whimpered so, so quietly, "please, p-please, give me a cha-chance."

Kurt hushed him quietly, running a gentle hand through Blaine's curls, but keeping his grip on Blaine's wrists to hold him still. Blaine didn't stop shaking, but he stopped fighting, breath slowing and only minutely hitching every once in a while and Kurt let go of his wrists, gently tugging on his hair until Blaine kneeled back up.

"I started this all wrong, and you had every right to freak out, but can I please try again? I really do need to explain to you what I do and do not expect from you."

Blaine nodded weakly and Kurt scratched at his scalp gently, loving the way Blaine's eyelids fluttered slightly at the touch.

"We'll start with what I do not expect from you. I do not expect sex from you, I do not expect kisses from you, I do not expect cuddling anything. That latter one may happen in the future, but only if you feel comfortable enough to ask for it or initiate it. There will, however, never be any sexual contact between us ever again. I hate myself for what I had to do to you that first night, and I will never force you into anything like that in the future, and I won't allow you to initiate it because I have no way of telling if you really want it, or if you're just doing it because you think it's your duty or the only way for me to want to keep you around, like you were doing just now. That is unacceptable, and it will not happen again, is that understood?"

Blaine nodded slowly.

"Secondly, I will never sell you, Blaine. You've already been designated a sex slave and I know how most owners treat their sex slaves and I won't let that happen to you. But I can't free you either, so you're kind of stuck with me for… well, forever. And since we're stuck with each other it's probably be a lot nicer if we actually talked to each other. I won't make you talk if you really don't want to but… I liked how we were that day we did talk. You were happy and carefree and I know I shouldn't have asked… that question, and I'm really, really sorry I did, but if you'll give me a chance, I'd like us to be friends, not just… two people who share a bed and avoid each other for the rest of the day.

"You can't have a job, not one that is specifically designated for you at least, but if you want to, you can help out around the castle sometimes, work in the kitchen with Carol, the stables with Finn… I don't actually know if you've met him yet, but he's sweet. There's laundry, and gardening, and lots of different things you can do around the castle, you don't have to just sit in the room all alone when I'm not around, go out and explore. I want you to make the most of your life, Blaine," Kurt said, reaching out to take his hands, "I know it can't be the dream life, you'll never be allowed to own your own house, or get married, or have a litter of children running around, you can't be free… but I want you to try to make the best of your lot, and I would like to help you, if you'll let me."

Blaine frowned, "I-I can't…" he looked conflicted as to whether he wanted to ask or not, whether he really wanted to know the answer, "M-mariage makes sense, but can-can I not have a boyfriend ever?"

Kurt bit his lip, trying to ignore the ache in his chest as his mind immediately conjured up the image of Nick and Blaine cuddled together on the couch. "You'd have to hide it," he said quietly, "n-not from me, of course. I-I want you to be happy and that includes any future relationships you may decide to try-" Kurt's voice cracked and he cleared his throat, "but-um, the council wouldn't be too happy if they were to find out, they'd think I wasn't strong enough to control my own… you know," he mumbled, "sex slave. They think I should be possessive and want you all to myself, and you having a boyfriend wouldn't… well it might lead them to realize that I'm not using you." Kurt shrugged, eyes on their hands, unconsciously rubbing his thumbs over Blaine's knuckles. He let go when he realized what he was doing, sitting on his hands to keep himself from reaching out again.

Kurt shook his head to clear it and focus on Blaine. "Why-why do you ask?" Kurt stuttered, "Is there any...anyone you're… interested in?" He peeked up at Blaine through his eyelashes, noticing how the slave's brow was furrowed as he studied him curiously.

"No," Blaine said with a small shake of his head, "I-I just wanted to know."

Kurt nodded, heart thrumming happily at the answer. "Well, um, other rules I guess, uh… you can leave the room whenever you want, eat whenever you want, spend time with anyone you want, and basically do whatever you want. Except leave the castle grounds, that's a rule I didn't make, but it's for your safety. A lot of the council has determined that if a slave leaves the grounds without express permission they are to automatically be considered a runaway and well… it's not exactly pretty if one of them or the police find them before myself or my father."

Blaine noticed the change in Kurt's demeanor, talking about the last rule, face stricken and a little panicked and back tensed. He almost wanted to reach for him, but the prince's hands were tucked firmly under himself.

"I won't leave the grounds," he assured softly, instead.

Kurt gave him weak smile, "That's the only rule a member of the council is allowed to enforce," he informed him, "they will tend to enforce the "respectful names" rule, but even then, if they punish you for the way they refer to me, I want you to let me know, okay? They're not supposed to do that."

Blaine nodded, biting his lip and shifting uncomfortably. Kurt's eyes narrowed. "One of them already has," he stated. Blaine nodded again, keeping his eyes down. "When?"

Blaine swallowed "My-my second day in the castle. I went out to-to look for food and ran into Carmichael."

Kurt's nostrils flared and Blaine tensed, "He's why you thought you couldn't leave the room?"

Blaine wet his lips, "Yeah… he-he told me I couldn't leave unless with you, and that-" he took a deep breath, "that if you wanted me to-to eat, you'd send me food. Since you ha-hadn't, it meant I was being starved in punish-punishment."

Kurt's hands clenched into fists under his thighs, lips pressing into a firm line, "Why didn't you tell me?"

Blaine's breathing was quick, "He-he hit me, and he t-told me you'd do wor-worse once you found out I-I'd left. I was scared to te-tell you."

Kurt ground his teeth together, "Where did he hit you?"

Blaine blushed, squirming in his seat, not able to meet Kurt's eyes. "He-he spa-spanked me," he muttered quietly.

Kurt closed his eyes, taking a few deep, calming breaths. He could tell Blaine was nervous already, stuttering and shaking, and Kurt getting angry would only upset him more, so he fought to keep his cool.

"Carmichael has no control over you," he said finally, "none of the council does, you can oblige small orders if you wish, to prevent the chance of them punishing you, but anything that makes you uncomfortable or that goes directly against something I have told you you can do, you don't have to comply. Tell them that I am your master and they do not have any power over you, do you understand?"

Blaine nodded jerkily and Kurt reached out to him, happy when Blaine still let him take his hands.

"Your feelings don't matter to them, but my ownership of you does, and acknowledging that you are mine is the only way to get them to back off. The other slaves don't have that luxury, since they are owned by the state, my father has power over how they are treated in general, but he can't prevent the council from bossing them around, I can stop it with you though, because you are mine and mine alone. I will never refer to myself as your master, or expect you to refer to me as such unless it is for your protection, okay?"

"Yes, Kurt," Blaine said softly.

Kurt brought Blaine hand to his mouth, kissing his knuckles gently. "Do you have any questions?"

Blaine thought, he had a million questions, but first he needed to sort through everything Kurt had told him. Figure out what it all meant and how he felt about it. "Can I ask you tomorrow?" he questioned quietly.

Kurt smiled, "Sure, I have something I need to do tomorrow anyway, and I was hoping you'd come with me. We'll have time to talk on the way if you decide to accompany me."

"Where are you going?" Blaine asked.

Kurt pursed his lips, "It'll be a surprise, should you decide to join me. If not, well, I guess you'll never know."

Blaine frowned, "That's hardly fair, for all I know you could be going to some big shindig where all the nobles would want to fondle me."

Kurt's eyes hardened and if Blaine had to guess he would say Kurt was thinking about all the nobles he knew that would want to do just that. "I wouldn't do that to you," Kurt said, sounding slightly hurt that Blaine would even think that, "if I do ever take you to a party, I'll keep you close and make sure everyone else keeps their hands off of you."

Blaine squeezed Kurt's hand until he looked up at him, "I know," he murmured, "I trust you to protect me."

Kurt tried to not let the smile on his face stretch too wide. "You trust me?" he whispered, almost in disbelief.

Blaine thought. He wasn't sure how much he trusted Kurt, not yet, not with all the conflicting signals he was getting, but the one thing he knew was certain was that Kurt was fiercely protective over his slaves and he wouldn't let anyone else touch what belonged to him, his reaction to Carmichael spanking him and his and Nick's closeness earlier was enough to tell him that.

Blaine just nodded, returning the smile with a small one of his own, not sure how to convey all of that without hurting Kurt's feelings, so he left it with the nod.

* * *

Kurt went to sleep shortly after, but Blaine was left awake, too many thoughts running through his head. Blaine had believed in Kurt when he first got back to the room with Nick, believed he was as good of a guy as everyone said he was, because he'd seen enough that pointed that way. And seeing him interact with Rachel had reinforced that image, Kurt was young and confused just like he was, and if they talked it out, it would all make sense, everything he had done would have clear reasons.

But the look in Kurt's eyes when he'd seen Blaine holding Nick hands, he'd been hurt, he'd been upset, and how far were those emotions from turning to anger, really? And what did the other slaves know about how Kurt would treat him? They didn't belong to him, they weren't his and his alone, how could it possibly be the same? And maybe Kurt was nice to him when Kurt was the only place he could receive any kind of kindness from. What about when he started making friends and getting love and affection from them? Would Kurt stop being nice? Or would he take the friends away? Leave Blaine alone and isolated again, so he could play his mind games and make Blaine think he cared and that he was the only one who cared. Would he take Nick away from him? Could Blaine handle that?

When Kurt had asked to eat in the room… Blaine knew he was right. He was going to be cut off from everyone again, even Carole, and that would be how Kurt finally broke him completely. And then Brittany and Santana showed up and Kurt was worried about Brittany, and let Brittany cuddle next to Blaine and he'd seemed actually happy about them being close and Blaine didn't know what to think.

Now Kurt had listed off all these rules that were more like orders for Blaine to just have a life and make it happy and he promised safety and protection and even love and affection if Blaine wanted it and it all seemed too good to be true, but, god, did he want it to be true but it was terrifying to hope but Blaine didn't know how he would last without a little hope. So he let himself believe, let himself believe that Kurt was as good as everyone said, that Kurt would be kind and fair and give him as much freedom to make the best out of his limited life, and he hoped that believing wouldn't be the thing that shattered him.

* * *

Blaine jolted awake to Kurt gently shaking his arm, feeling like he'd only fallen asleep minutes prior. "Do you still want to come with me?" Kurt asked, and he was already dressed, simple jeans and a black t-shirt with a beanie pulled down over his head, forcing his bangs to lie flat and in his eyes, deaging his face dramatically, and making him look so, so young. He was ready to slip on his shoes and leave if Blaine said no, but Blaine needed to give Kurt a chance to prove himself to be as noble as he said he was. So he hauled himself out of bed, showered quickly, and dressed in the clothes Kurt had left in the bathroom for him. Kurt was waiting by the door for him, when he came out, holding his shoes and a backpack.

"What's that for?" Blaine asked as he slipped the simple pair of sneakers on his feet, nodding at the backpack.

"Oh, it has food, water bottles, a jacket, you know, just in case. The walk won't be horribly long, but… you did a lot of crying yesterday so you need to keep hydrated. I have the same things in mine," he shrugged his shoulders, making the bag on his back bounce a little.

Blaine nodded, taking the bag from him. "Do I get to know where we're going yet?"

Kurt smiled, "Nope."

Blaine sighed, but followed Kurt out of the room. They didn't make it far at first, stopping in the garden. Kurt busied himself in picking a beautiful bouquet of flowers while Blaine watched, nibbling on a granola bar since they hadn't stopped to eat breakfast. Once Kurt was satisfied with his arrangement, he had Blaine help him tie a beautiful teal ribbon around the stems to hold them together and then they walked on.

They walked for a while, past the stables, past a field of crops, and right to the gate that lead into the city. Blaine paused as Kurt started to unlock it.

"I thought I wasn't supposed to leave the castle grounds," Blaine said, keeping back and glancing around fearfully as Kurt pushed it open.

Kurt frowned at the worry on Blaine's face and reached for his hand, "It's okay, as long a you're with me, you'll be fine, just stay close and don't wander off, okay?"

Blaine nodded carefully, took the proffered hand, and followed Kurt out of the gate. It was still early and most of the citizens were asleep, but Kurt kept his head down, not meeting anyone's eye. Blaine wondered if anyone would actually recognize him, even if they got a good look at his face. Sure, there were pictures of the king all over the place, but Kurt? Any pictures of him that Blaine could remember were of a small porcelain skinned child buried in text books that none of the kids actually read. And Blaine was shocked to realize that truthfully, before being gifted to him, he had never really known what Kurt looked like. Blaine racked his brain, trying to remember old textbooks he'd seen and if there had been pictures of young Burt in them or not, and if they kept his face just as hidden from the townspeople as they had Kurt, but he honestly couldn't remember one way or another.

When they reached the woods at the edge of town, Kurt relaxed exponentially, being away from anyone that might see them calming him. And in relaxing he noticed the deep lines on Blaine's forehead from his furrowed brow and pursed lips.

"You're thinking very loudly, Blaine," Kurt said and the slave jumped a little at his voice in the quiet hum of the woods, "Have you figured out what questions you want to ask?"

Blaine bit his lip, "For-for being the future king, you're rather a mystery to your people, you know that?"

Kurt hummed and nodded in confirmation.

"I-I wasn't alive when your father took the throne-"

Kurt scoffed, "Clearly, I wasn't even born yet."

"Yeah, but, I remember my parents talking about how handsome a prince your father was when he was young, all the girls in the town fawning over him, wishing he could date a commoner… and now that I think about it, I've never heard of your father having been married. Clearly I knew you existed, but even that was barely a paragraph in a textbook, and there not one word about your mother, who she is, where she came from… not even a name."

Blaine trailed off as he noticed the tightness in Kurt's jaw, back straight and shoulders set. He looked… angry, but not quite, more pained. Blaine could guess that is not a question he had expected Blaine to ask.

"And you're not much better," he continued carefully, "I haven't seen a picture of you since you were a child… it's, it's almost like they wanted you to not even exist."

Kurt licked his lips slowly, "Well, you have that about right, they do wish I didn't exist, or at least that my father would have another son, a better heir."

Blaine frowned, "Why? You're strong, you're assertive, you're caring enough about your slaves, I can't even begin to imagine how good you'd be with the people, and yet, they don't think you're worthy? Why? And who are they to decide whether you should be king?"

Kurt paused in his steps and Blaine had a feeling they were getting close to their destination and Kurt didn't want to have this conversation there. Kurt let go of Blaine's hand, folding them instead, across his chest, and leaned against a tree.

"They are the council," he said slowly, "Carmichael and all those other old men that are mostly royal original purpose was to aid the king, help him run the kingdom, give him advice in tough decisions. But after a few bad kings, it was decided to give them more power, the power to stop any laws they deemed unfair, the power to stop anyone from becoming king that they deemed unfit. It was a good plan, until the council members became just as corrupt and power hungry as the kings. And when a good king came around again, he could do nothing to change the power they held over him."

Blaine pursed his lips, "And they don't want you to be king?" Kurt nodded, "Why?"

Kurt shook his head, letting out a breath that was somewhere between a sigh and humorless laugh. "Many, many reasons."

"Because you're gay?" Blaine said.

"That one of them," Kurt confirmed.

"Because you want to change the slave laws?"

"And that's another one, those are… two of the biggest ones-"

"But not the biggest one?" Blaine inferred.

Kurt let his head fall back against the tree, eyes closing, before he let himself give Blaine a small nod.

"And that biggest on has something to do with your mother?"

Kurt opened one eye to peer at him suspiciously, "For someone who has barely spoken to me for the past month you're prying quite a bit."

Blaine dropped his eyes, "You-you told me I could ask you questions…"

"Yeah," Kurt said and Blaine could hear the snippy edge to his voice starting to come out, even if Kurt was trying to fight it back, "but I expected the questions to stay focussed on you and what you were allowed to do or not do and life in the castle, stuff like that. Not about personal matters that don't concern you."

"Don't concern me? Of course it concerns me, the possibility of you not being the next king concerns me! I have a right to know, because I am a citizen of this town!"

"No you're not!" Kurt shouted, "You're a slave, Blaine! Not a citizen! You don't have a right to know, because the only rights you have are the ones I give you and I say you don't need to know this, so back off!"

Blaine stumbled back a few steps, face crumpling and arms wrapping tightly around himself. Kurt's face softened when he saw the fear returning to Blaine's eyes. He took a deep breath to calm himself.

"I'm sorry," he said, "I didn't mean that. Of course this concerns you, and of course you're still a citizen, I just really, don't like talking about it, okay? All you need to know is that I have enough council members on my side and as long as I can keep them there, when the day comes for me to take the throne, I will be king."

Blaine nodded shakily, flinching slightly when Kurt reached out a hand for him to take. Blaine hesitated for a moment before entwining his fingers with Kurt's and letting him lead him the remainder of the way through the woods. They spent the rest of the walk in silence and Blaine could feel the tension in the air between them, almost stifling despite the fact that they were outside. It almost made him want to let go and run, runaway just to get away from the awkwardness surrounding them, but Kurt's grip was firm, so he kept walking.

When they exited the tree line, Blaine knew exactly where they were, but was a bit confused as to why. Kurt led him along the rows of graves until they reach one placed directly under a weeping willow. Kurt kneeled carefully on the ground, letting go of Blaine's hand to give him the option of sitting or standing. Blaine chose to sit, easing himself gently onto the ground next to Kurt and looked at the headstone.

Elizabeth Dawn Simmons

Loving Mother

Kurt took the wilted bouquet of flowers out of the vase on the headstone, handing them to Blaine to hold while he retrieved a water bottle from his backpack. He filled the vase again and sat the fresh bouquet carefully inside before sitting back. He took the dead flowers from Blaine and started carefully picking the petals off, crushing them in his fist, and letting them fall to the ground on top of the grave.

Blaine sat quietly next to Kurt, thinking of who this woman was, and there was only one answer. It was Kurt's mother. But that still didn't make sense, this was the commoner cemetery, a queen would not be buried here… but, Kurt's mother wasn't a queen, the gravestone didn't even say anything about her being a wife, which meant her and Burt had not been married when Kurt was born and never married after, but…. oh, oh.

"Your mother wasn't of noble birth," Blaine breathed. Kurt stiffened beside him but didn't say anything and the reaction was confirmation enough. Of course Burt and Elizabeth wouldn't be allowed to marry, not without her having any royal blood. And of course they wouldn't want the son of a commoner to be king, no wonder they tried to hide Kurt, pretend he didn't exist so that Burt could marry a noblewoman and have a son they deemed worthy of the throne. That one small fact made so many of Kurt's complications in life make so much more sense to Blaine.

Blaine reached out a hand when Kurt had pulled and crushed the last of the petals. Kurt took it and Blaine squeezed it in comfort. They sat in silence for a while until Blaine spoke.

"Tell me about her?" he asked quietly.

Kurt blinked quickly a few times before giving a shaky nod. "She loved the horses, had me riding before I could walk. Obviously not alone, with her, or Dad, until I was old enough to hold myself up on them. She gave me Pavarotti just before she died. He was a newborn who'd lost his mother… I can't even count the number of nights my father found me sleeping in his stall because I felt like… even with the species barrier, he knew what I was feeling.

"I don't remember what she looked like, Dad says I look just like her, but I don't know if it's true or not. I-I remember her voice, though. She loved singing, the-the piano in my room was hers, my dad bought it for her. I don't even know how to play, but when my dad talked about getting rid of it, I couldn't let him, so I took it.

"The council was horrible to her, everyone was, really. Offered her money to leave when they found out she was pregnant with me. But she wouldn't take it. She loved my dad, didn't want to just disappear in the middle of the night, or keep me away from him. She had faith the laws would change, that he could change them and they could be together… really together, married, with her as his equal, not his-" he cut himself off abruptly, shaking his head.

"She's been dead ten years and nothing has changed. I'm not sure I believe it ever will at this point."

Blaine laid his head gently on Kurt's shoulder. "You can change it, you're young and you already know this is something that needs to be different. You have your whole life to work on it, your father's only had eighteen years. Don't let up, and you can make a difference."

They lapsed back into silence, Kurt eventually resting his cheek against Blaine's curls. They sat in front of the grave for a while, Kurt occasionally listing off something else about his mother, Blaine was content to just sit and listen to Kurt talk until his stomach growled loudly and Kurt looked up to the sky.

"It's almost lunch time, we should head back," Kurt said, letting go of Blaine's hand so he could stand up. Blaine followed suit, grabbing onto Kurt's arm when the world started to spin. "You okay?" Kurt asked in concern.

Blaine nodded, "Yeah, stood up too quickly is all."

"I haven't seen you touch the water in your backpack," Kurt scolded, "you're probably dehydrated. Get one out and another granola bar while you're at it. I don't want you passing out on me on the way back."

Blaine grumbled but did as he was told. He ate as they walked, bumping shoulders with Kurt every once in a while to make up for being unable to hold his hand. They were a few feet from the tree line when Blaine paused, turning back to the cemetery and biting his lip as he scanned the rows of graves.

"Blaine?" Kurt said, touching his shoulder gently.

"Could we… I mean, could I-" he gestured vaguely out at the cemetery, not sure how to ask.

"Is there someone you'd like to visit?"

Blaine nodded giving Kurt a slightly pleading look.

Kurt laughed, "Of course we can go see them, do you know where they are?"

Blaine frowned, "I think so… I haven't been able to visit since the funeral."

Kurt gave him a sympathetic smile, "Point us in the general direction and I'll help you look."

It took them another half an hour before Kurt called out that he found her and Blaine practically sprinted to him, only slowing down when he almost tripped over the headstone for a stillborn baby. When he got there, he dropped to his knees in front of the headstone, a teary smile on his face as his fingers traced the writing.

Riza Layla Anderson

"Hi, Nana."


End file.
